Life is Like a Circus
by Melancholy-Arts
Summary: Freak shows. A common past-time for those interested in seeing the supernatural. When one particular male, an American named Alfred, stumbles upon one in the very town he's currently staying in, he helps himself to the show, all too eager to get away from watchful eyes. The one thing he wasn't expecting was to be captivated by one of the acts—the Snakeman.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: **Circus, freak show, snakes, Snakeman [_not_ serpent], Blair [Scotland],

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia nor any of its characters.

**Pairing: **USxUK [America x England]

**Summary: **Freak shows. A common past-time for those interested in seeing freaks of all kinds and making themselves feel better over all. When one particular male, an American, stumbles upon one in the very town he's currently staying in, he helps himself to the show, all too eager to get away from watchful eyes. The one thing he wasn't expecting was to be captivated by one of the acts, probably the most fascinating of them all—the Snakeman.

**Author's Notes: **So this has been a story that I've been waiting a long time to get started with. That reason being because I want to take me sweet time with it, which is why updates on chapters will be pretty damn slow. Forgive me. I am in the middle of working on the second chapter, but you lot just have to bear with me. I've recently started up college so I'm busy with the school work and all that fun crap. My plate is pretty full at the moment.

Before I do end this though, the picture I used for this story is one that I drew myself. It's posted up on my DeviantART page for anyone who's interested.

Anyway, do enjoy.

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"Ladies and gentlemen of every age, come and let your curiosity lead you into a world incomprehensible by mere sight alone. Allow your eyes to feast upon the freaks and beasts we have here to show and let your imagination ponder in awe—are they real? Is it fake? Is this a hoax?" The Scotsman speaking laughed, pulling his top hat off to take a bow before the crowd of civilians before him. "Come one and come all, boys and girls, men and woman, old and young, come and I will assure you that this is no hoax…"

When the redhead straightened out his back and sent his piercing emerald eyes scanning across the people cluttered before him, His already large grin spread wider. "The show is about to start. Come quick and buy your tickets before you miss any of the performing freaks."

With a swift movement, he aimed his hand still holding the top hat behind him toward the entrance of the traveling circus. A few people, whose attention the Scotsman had grabbed, left the crowd and headed toward the place he pointed to. Those less interested turned and left, making the bundle of people slowly diminish.

As the redhead placed his hat back atop his head, his eyes scanned out again, examining the streets that were slowly clearing. One man walking toward him in a hurry caught his attention real quick.

When the man neared, Blair Kirkland wrapped an arm around his shoulders and drew him in close with a chuckle. "What's the big rush, sir? How about you take a breather and head on in to enjoy the circus? A show is about to start and there's games and freaks galore in there."

The man he'd caught in his grasp seemed like he'd just spotted a ghost, but when the accented words reached his ears, he seemed to come alive again and looked up at the Scotsman with a sort of glimmering brightness in his eyes. Something else was showing in those blue orbs, but Blair couldn't quiet pinpoint what emotion it was and he really couldn't care any less.

"A show? Sure, sounds like fun." The American gave a slight smile toward the redhead, more than excitement showing in his eyes. A hint of relief flashed through them.

Blair shined his own bright grin down toward the blue-eyed man as he showed him the way to the entrance. "Right through there, just got to buy a ticket and you're in." Without the whole ticket thing the traveling circus probably wouldn't make any bucks, besides of course the profit made from the games and such.

The American that Blair had snagged just nodded his head, leaving the Scotsman's grip and gave a short-lived smile before hurrying over to the circus' entrance. He was greeted by a woman behind a booth, who, once spotting the American coming toward her, ripped a ticket off of a roll and waited.

"That'll be ten pounds, sir." She spoke with a strange accent, one of which he couldn't quite recognize. She was a brunette woman with vivid green eyes—beautiful, from what Alfred could tell, in both looks and physique. Though her choice in garments were rather… Strange. At first glance he thought of her as a gypsy, which wouldn't surprise him. This was a i_traveling_/i circus after all.

The American reached into his pockets and searched around for his money. When his fingertips brushed against a small leather pouch in his inside coat pocket, he stopped and pulled it out, fishing inside of it. His hands were a little shaky from his on-end nerves, but he calmed himself enough to pull out the proper bill and slide it over to the woman in exchange for the ticket. He was too eager to get inside and away from watchful eyes.

"Enjoy the circus, and do be sure to stop by to catch the show. It's starting very soon," The woman gave the man a small smile as she took the bill passed to her and slipped it in with the other money she'd collected that day.

Alfred just nodded his head at her and placed his money pouch back into his pocket after slipping his ticket inside of it. He headed on in the circus and found his way to the largest tent there was—that must have been the main ring where this so called 'show' was being held.

He wandered inside the tent quickly, though once inside his pace slowed and he wandered the floor, his sky blue orbs gazing around the vast space the tent had to offer. The center ring was large and had one large, thick pole holding up the bulk of the red and white tarp hanging over head and all around. Surrounding that center ring almost all around was rows and rows of seats upon which quite a few people, more so than Al would have thought, occupied all around.

The wandering man took a seat right up front, which he was hoping to have a great view from, and waited for the show to start. Everyone kept saying it would be soon, so he was holding them to their word and hoping he wouldn't be here waiting for too long. He was fine with killing the time, but he was interested and impatient enough to want to see what this show was all about.

Just a few minutes more passed and the lights shining down on the center ring dimmed dark until there was light no more. When one flickered on, bright and right in the center of the floor, the same redheaded man from outside was right in the middle of it. His top hat was a little crooked and in his hand was a cane.

Alfred put two and two together and took a wild guess—this man was the ringmaster.

The Scotsman lifted his head up and brought a hand toward his hat to adjust it. His piercing eyes scanned around the audience before him, and he opened his mouth to speak with a hint of a smile turning his lips upward. "Welcome, one and all, to the Kirkland Family Circus. I hope our show is to your liking and that you won't find disappointment. All of our acts are genuine, and each one works hard to entertain kind folks such as yourselves."

He started pacing a little, walking from one place to another as he spoke, the spotlight following him around with each step taken. "We've got all sorts of things to show you folks tonight. Freaks from all over the spectrum of the word—a wolf man, conjoined twins, a fire breather or sword swallower, illusions and magic." A soft chuckle left his lips as he paced, "And so much more that… Well, you'll just have to wait and see now, won't you?"

The first act up was the conjoined twins.

They hailed from Italy, their accents strong, and were joined at the hip—four arms and two legs was what they had. A lot of people were appalled at the sight of the duo, while other's were snickering or laughing or enjoying the sight of them.

One of the brother's had a scowl on his face, obviously not enjoying this sort of attention, while the other was smiling and eating it up.

After them was the fire breather. Ironically enough he was an albino male, pale, almost white skin with hair like freshly fallen snow to match. He had a thick Prussian accent and a loud voice to go with it. He was an amusing man, Alfred enjoyed watching him, but when it was time for his act to end Al was excited to see what was next.

Act after act was presented to the crowd, and just when the audience thought the show was over, the ring master gave them a surprise.

"I have one more act to show you lot, and may I just say that we did save the best for last." A soft chuckle left the ring master's lips. "Now, I must add as a fair warning that he's not a sight for those faint of heart, but I must also promise you that you won't be able to take eyes off of him either."

When he spoke about those faint of heart, how they wouldn't care for the sight of him, a few people around the American got up and left along with other's all around the large tent.

Alfred however sat up in his seat, his eyebrows rising from the man's words. The previous acts had all been interesting, but now there was to be something… Better? That definitely caught the American's attention right away.

He kept his eyes glued to the man in the center of the ring, his gaze flickering around the darker parts of the stage as if to see if he could spot the new coming act before he hit the spotlight.

As soon as the few people who got up exited the tent, the man in the center continued with a wide smile plastered on his face. "Now that the squeamish have dismissed themselves, we can continue with our eccentric show."

He winked toward the crowd as the lights fell dim into complete darkness, much like they had at the beginning of the show. The lights returned after a short moment though, but instead of the attractive red head in the center of the ring, in his place was a brass, dome-shaped cage. Within the large confinement sat a man with a small build and pale skin. Vibrant, green eyes were looking through the brass bars and at the audience watching all too eagerly.

In contrast to the male's creamy skin, green scales spread across his skin like a form of sickness or disease. The glossy scales started from the left side of his face trailing down his neck until it disappeared behind the collar of his white button-up shirt. The affected skin was exposed to the eyes of the onlookers only on his left arm and right leg past the clothing. The imperfections ran across other parts of his body, but the onlookers of the show didn't know that.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, do not be afraid." Blair's voice echoed though the darkness of the tent, until he was seen trotting over toward the cage. He kept his distance as he stood near the door to the man's temporary prison.

Water splashed down inside of the cage from above then, flowing down the brass bars and all over the body of the man inside. The white shirt he was wearing became transparent as it became wet, clinging to the caged man's body. The dark green skin littered with the shiny imperfections then became visible. They were over his shoulder and down his back, some even were on his stomach that ran down and then twisted around his side to connect with the others.

Once the water stopped splashing down, four or so snakes slithered down from the top of the cage, making their way to the man in the center. The small beasts slithered their way into the cage, through the bars, to join with their owner, their master. The reptiles moved themselves, wrapping themselves all around his body—some even were adventurous and slithered underneath his clothing and across his bare skin.

The ringmaster threw a hand in the cages direction, that previous wide grin turning more into a smirk. "I present to you, the Snakeman."

The so-called Snakeman rose to his knees, allowing the snakes' better access to move through his shirt and up his arms and legs. Some slithered across his chest, other's around his ankles or forearms. One even dared to slither around his neck before dipping under the damp shirt and across his chest.

A lot of the people in the audience let out a gasp of surprise just from the sheer sight of the Snakeman and his little pets slithering all about him. Alfred seemed to be the only one that he noticed who was actually leaning in closer as if to get a better look at the man. It wasn't what he was expecting at all, then again, wasn't that kind of the point of these acts? To show you the unexpected and astonishing? To see the unbelievable and be struck with pure awe? Alfred and a select few others littered about in the crowd seemed to be the only ones actually interested in this particular act.

Thank God the American wasn't terrified of snakes though, but he figured that that was the reason why so many people seemed to squeal and scream once they saw the extraordinary sight.

Al barely paid any attention to the red head blabbing his mouth though, and instead focused his eyes on the Snakeman himself with high interest gleaming in his eyes. Who would have thought that he would have been pulled toward the show by pure coincidence, find it to be a good place to hide in for a bit, but then actually find out that he was enjoying it?

It wasn't until the Scotsman moved toward the door of the cage and started speaking again that the blond American started paying attention again.

"It's a shame to have you in a cage," Blair teased as he stepped directly in front of the cages door, reaching a hand up to rest on the latch, "It's not like you're a _complete_ animal, so let's let you out, yes?" With that the red head unlatched the lock, allowing the door of the cage to swing open as he stepped back and away from it.

The Snakeman's lips twitched into a small smirk as the door opened up into freedom. People always freaked out when the door opened, and this was just such a case—people were muttering in the crowd and a few screams echoed throughout the enormous tent. After so many times of doing the same routine, the people's amazement of him never seemed to get old. It was understandable though, after all, it wasn't everyday one saw a sight such as the Snakeman.

The snakes that were across his body slithered off and clung to the bars of the dome-shaped cage instead, wrapping around the thin brass pieces. The blond male inside crawled out from the cage that he was once trapped in and rose to his feet once he was out completely. One snake remained wrapped around his neck, but he removed it from there and allowed it wrap around his leg instead. He slipped off the sopping wet shirt from his shoulders, letting it fall back to the floor and reveal the imperfections all across his skin.

The Englishman turned his back toward the crowd and stretched his arms up, showing off the scales as the small snake around his leg slithered on back up toward his neck.

Within the audience, something large was working its way through the groups and rows of people. It was a rather large, black snake that more than likely belonged to the Snakeman in the spotlight. The beast was slithering in the front row of people, sometimes going right over people's feet and causing them to freak out. The creature made it to the American, the weight of her running over his foot as it moved toward the wall separating the audience and the ring.

Alfred blinked and jumped when he felt the pressure of something crawling across his foot. When he looked down, he saw the snake. The large, thick, black beast of a snake. She was about ten feet long and a coordinating thickness to go with—not to mention she looked heavy.

A normal person would have freaked out and threw a fit, but Alfred reached down and caught the slithering beast with one hand before it had the chance to get away from him and disappear into the ring. "Come here, beastie."

It seemed not the least bit irritated that someone had just scooped it up and stopped it from reaching where it was heading, and instead it coiled around one of his arms and turned its head around to face the family a few rows behind Alfred. The young children they had seemed in just as much awe as Alfred was, but the mother screamed and panicked, scooping her children up into her arms. She moved away from the beast while the father gave the American a dirty look, implying that he was stupid for bringing it closer to his kids [Alfred honestly didn't know that children were behind him].

The blond American just shrugged his shoulders and went back to looking at the snake wrapped around his arm. To him the reptile felt light as a feather, but he knew that to the average person she probably was too heavy to lift with just one hand, maybe even two.

The beast however didn't go unnoticed. The moment the screaming was heard the ringmaster sent his eyes flying toward the noises, hell-bent on finding the culprit… That was when Blair's eyes widened. He saw the large, black snake that was currently occupying the American's left arm. That was not apart of the act! That particular snake was just one of the Snakeman's pets; she was just too large and threatening for the show so she wasn't used during his act.

So why was she out and about now? And in the audience no less!

The performer glanced over at the ring master, seeing the expression on his face. He followed his gaze, turning his head to the side so he could see what the commotion was about—the large reptile.

The Snakeman brought the snake that was coiled around his arm to the cage, letting it slither off and join the other's, and then started walking toward where the large beast was. He was going to play it off as if it was part of the show, and then hopefully there wouldn't be a panic in the audience.

Arthur stopped before the man currently holding the beast and extended an arm toward it. He didn't take notice that the man was holding the large animal with only one arm; he had other things to worry about at the moment.

He called for the snake to come to him, a slight smile on his lips as he gazed at his pet and waited for her to come like he called. "Elizabeth. Come here, Elizabeth."

The snake responded, slithering down the other man's arm and up onto the Snakeman instead, moving herself up onto his shoulder where she stayed, quite content. Arthur steadied himself for the weight of the beast that wrapped around his shoulders, and then smiled quickly toward the other male before he turned his back to him. He walked back to the center of the ring where the ringmaster stood with a sour look on his face.

The snake was harmless, but the redhead hated the creature with a bloody passion and wouldn't allow her in his act or, Hell, even out of her cage if he was around.

As he returned to the cage, standing just outside it, Blair gave the performer a nasty look before returning his gaze to the crowd spread out around them. He chuckled nervously, "Do not be alarmed. Everything is quite all right. Just a minor… Mishap…" He shot one last dirty look toward the Snakeman.

The Englishman gave the ringmaster a dirty look in return, but after he stopped yapping his trap he faced the audience and bowed slightly. He then turned on his heels, exiting the ring and leaving the large tent all together.

He wasn't going to be looking forward to the conversation that would happen with Blair once the show was good and done for the night and the crowds left.

O~O~O

The moment the show ended and the ringmaster excused himself and said his farewells and good nights, the American let out a long sigh. He couldn't go back outside just yet. This show only burnt up an hour or so, and he knew that _they_ would still be hot on his trail.

He couldn't risk the chance of getting caught.

Alfred stood up from his seat then and remained standing for a moment as he thought things over in his head. He couldn't exactly leave at that moment, it wasn't safe, so he figured that the best thing for him to do would be to stay put for a few more hours—least until the circus/carnival itself closed down for the night.

He exited the tent and made his way deeper through the carnival, passing other people and games and the like, until he found the tents that belonged to the people in the show itself—the performers.

He was curious to go and peek through the various tents, perhaps nab a thing or two to pay for a place to stay for the night since he was low on money, or even better… Find the one act that really caught his attention. The Snakeman.

He moved along the rows, peering into each tent but being careful if someone was inside. He came across so far only empty ones, a time or two he found one of the acts inside but they didn't notice, and finally he found the one he was looking for.

The one that belonged to the Snakeman he was captivated by. A smile crossed his lips as he went to go peek inside, but footsteps behind him made him jump and move into a hiding place nearby.

It was the ringmaster who was coming up behind him, but he hid just in time to see the redhead pull the tent flap back and stand in the entrance.

"I told you to keep that thing locked up." Blair's voice betrayed his anger as he snapped toward the Englishman seated on his cot. In his hands was a book, which was closed the moment his brother came barging in. The ringmaster continued, "I tolerate it even _being_ here, so the least you can do is keep it away from people." He crossed his arms over his chest as he glared at the large snake coiled around one of the legs of a nearby table.

"She's harmless; I'm not going to lock her away in a cage all the time. She'd also benefit the show if you'd let me use her in an act or two sometimes." Arthur scowled at the ringmaster, sitting up off his cot before standing up.

The Scotsman just rolled his eyes and gave a serious expression, "I swear that the next time I catch that thing out in public I'll lock you both in a damn cage!" The ringmaster stormed out of the tent after that, not in the mood to continue with further arguing at the moment. He continued to mutter under his breath, in such a rage that he didn't even take notice to the American in his hiding place. He must have been damn good at hiding.

Arthur scowled at the back of his sibling's head as he stormed off, trying to burn holes into him as he followed him out of the entrance to yell at his backside. "Piss off, Blair!" Of course that would be the ringmaster's solution though—locking him in a cage.

Blair didn't like what was happening so he threatened.

The only really scary thing was that if he pissed Blair off enough that threat would become a promise.

Often times the Snakeman would think of running away from the circus, but he knew better than that. Where would he go? What would he do? He was a freak and there was no denying that. In the real world away from this place he'd never survive.

The Snakeman huffed before his gaze caught sight of the American who was slowly creeping out of his hiding place, obviously thinking that he was safe to get out. He looked him over once before turning on his heels and entering the tent without another word said.

Alfred stared at the Snakeman, sky blue meeting venomous green as their eyes connected briefly before the other man entered his tent and let the flap fall back down. That was when the American straightened himself out, waiting for a moment before he walked over to the entrance, puling it back some as he poked his head inside.

"I don't mean to intrude, but… You and the ringmaster really butt heads, huh?" He raised a thin eyebrow, "All because that snake that was in the crowd, right?" He took a quick glance of the tent in search for the beast, but when he returned his eyes to the Snakeman he gave a sheepish smile instead. He really was fond of that snake. Something about it was just… captivating, just as much as the Snakeman himself was.

The Englishman glanced over his shoulder toward the stranger when he entered the tent and questioned about the redhead. He couldn't help but laugh bitterly, "Butt heads—yeah, it's kind of a sibling thing… though we are a bit more on the violent side." He shrugged his shoulders lightly as he walked over to the small cot and sat down. "This fight, yes, was about the snake in the crowd though." He gazed over at the stranger in his tent with one eyebrow raised.

Alfred scratched the back of his head nervously, standing rather awkwardly. He didn't know what to do with himself, nor did he know where to look exactly. He caught himself staring at the scales across the Snakeman's face, but quickly averted his eyes elsewhere before he was caught. "I really am sorry if I'm intruding. Say the word and I'll leave with no problem, I was just seeing if I could talk with a few of the acts, the ones I really liked, you know?" He avoided adding in anything about the fact that he was burning up time being there. The longer he was in hiding from the outside world in this circus then the safer he was.

"On second thought, I'll just head off before I really _do_ start to irritate you. Sorry." He gave another pathetic smile as he turned to go, pulling back the flap to the tent.

Arthur watched the American carefully not to sure what to make of the man. He simply came into the tent and started up a conversation like they were buddies, and then he went on about intruding on his space and leaving—he was rambling as if he was nervous. He supposed nervous was understandable. He i_was_/i in the company of a freak.

The Snakeman raised another thick eyebrow before standing back up and catching the other blond by the wrist before he could escape through the tents entrance, "You're not intruding, so calm down." He released the stranger's wrist just as quickly as he grabbed it. "You wanted to talk after all, right?" Arthur looked over at the man with a soft chuckle, "I promise you I don't bite." Normally he'd be more than ok with some stranger, who was gawking at him, to leave, but he needed something to get his mind off the fight that had just occurred not even moments ago.

This man would serve as said distraction, so he was in luck.

Alfred was hoping on that invitation to stay. It gave him a reason to stick around longer. "I can tell by the threat he used on you that you lot i_are/i_ rather violent." He shrugged his shoulders as he turned to face the other man. "Since you're cool with me staying, I'm Alfred Jones." He offered out a hand to shake, adding a smile.

The Snakeman couldn't help the small shudder that shook his body from the thought of the threat that he was reminded of. It was a shame that he was actually afraid of that happening, being locked in a cage, but luckily for him as long as Rylee was around that wouldn't happen. His sister could be a bit on the foul side just like their older brother, but at least she was on his side when it was really needed. After all, someone other than himself in the family had to have had a little bit of logic in their brain.

"I'm Arthur Kirkland," The Snakeman accepted the offered hand and shook it, noticing that the stranger had a very strong grip. It surprised him.

Both men dropped their hands back to their sides, but Alfred was the next to speak.

"It's very nice to meet you. The show was very interesting, by the way." He wore a vast smile on his face, but he couldn't help the soft chuckle that escaped his lips. "I don't mean to gawk at you by the way, but if I do, let me apologize here in advance. Not often you see a genuine Snakeman, you know?" He gave his massive shoulders a shrug before he settled and went back to looking around the tent.

Arthur figured that it was just nerves that made this strange man start to ramble like he was. At least he did apologize in advance for any gawking, which he guessed was supposed to make him feel better. He already caught him once gawking though.

Alfred brought a hand up and ran it through his hair, and then cleared his throat before speaking again. "You bunch are a traveling circus, right? Where do you all travel too? Close places or all over?" He was rambling, he knew it, but he didn't care. He was just asking questions after all, and he was trying to keep the conversation going.

The Snakeman sat back down on the cot, listening to the man ramble on and on. He raised an eyebrow toward Alfred though when he started asking the questions; this guy was just full of them, wasn't he?

"We travel all over the world. Mainly where ever we would make the most money." He shrugged his shoulders and leaned back against the metal bars where Elizabeth slithered over and onto his shoulders.

Traveling all over the world sounded fun.

The furthest Alfred had ever traveled was from America to England and here he was.

"Is that the snake?" He asked the moment he spotted the black beast slithering onto the smaller man's shoulders. A slight smile grew on his face. He couldn't believe that the ringmaster was afraid of her… She was absolutely stunning! And friendly to boot.

The Snakeman nodded his head, answering his question.

Alfred moved himself and sat beside Arthur on the cot, looking at him with a brow raised. "Sorry about the rambling and excessive apologies. I'm a little on edge." About what though he wouldn't be sharing with a man he honestly didn't know. It was none of his business.

The stranger gave another slight smile as he moved his gaze down toward the snake upon the man's shoulders. "Can I hold her by chance?" He nodded toward the beast with another smile on his face. He'd never before had the opportunity to lay his eyes upon such a beautiful reptile such as this, save for when he picked her up back in the main tent, but that was just a little while ago and completely by chance that she just so happened to sliver on by his feet.

He'd seen his share of rattlers and garden snakes, or other more common, smaller kinds of snakes before, but one like the one he was seeing now that was friendly as well? Never before. He counted himself as somewhat lucky for multiple reasons. One, being here now was killing the time he needed to, and he was able to catch the freak show and see what it was that most of this country was in a hype about.

Everywhere he turned he saw another freak show it seemed, but this was the only one he was checking out. It was kind of forced upon him, but he wasn't complaining.

He himself was a freak, but he never let anyone know that fact about him. He was a lucky enough man to be free from having a 'gift' like Arthur's, which wasn't that bad in all honesty, but his was easy to hide appearance wise.

The Englishman thought nothing of the man wanting to hold her. He'd seen him holding her back during the show, but he still had to warn him of her weight. "Just be warned that she's not like your average garden snake. She's heavy." He shifted himself and sat up, moving closer to the American so Elizabeth could move her heavy body onto Alfred's shoulders instead.

"I think I can handle heavy, but thanks for the warning anyway." He gave Arthur a wide smile as he welcomed the snake with no problem. The weight of her barely fazed him, and once she was on his shoulders and settled he brought his hands up to run over her smooth scales. Snakes always looked like they were slimly, but he knew that they weren't, they were smooth and almost soft if anything.

Arthur raised a thick eyebrow toward the other male as he watched the man hold her with ease. He seemed way too uneasy, and it was making Arthur extremely curious. He was used to reactions like that from people, but this guy was way off that charts.

"Is there something wrong? I know I'm not exactly a sight to see, but you seem a bit on guard?" He couldn't help but ask. Wouldn't hurt anything, would it?

When Al was called out on his current state of mind, he looked to Arthur a bit nervously. "It's not because of you, or your looks in any way—speaking of which, you're quite attractive, scales or not despite you saying that you're not a sight to see." Alfred flashed a dazzling smile toward the Snakeman, but then his grin became nervous once again. "I am on guard… But I guess my edginess is more… Worry… But I don't wanna bother you with my personal bullshit. Everyone's got their own problems, I'm sure even you, so I won't burden you." He waved a hand to excuse the idea, and then returned his attention back to the snake around his shoulders.

He was lying through his teeth about a few things he said, but hey, what the man didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"Sure—you're funny," Arthur rolled his bright green eyes at Alfred, unable to help the laughter that slipped past his lips. The bitter laugh didn't cover up the warming up of his pale cheeks though—the color was visible, even on the side with the scales.

Even the man that did want to be with him hated the imperfections across his skin—this stranger would be no different.

"There's no need to butter me up—it's not like you're trying to impress anyone." He didn't now what this guy was trying to pull, but there was no need for it. Alfred was already holding Elizabeth and was simply sitting around in his tent. That was pretty good on the American's part, especially since any other day he'd want any visitors away from him.

His attitude changed though when disagreements would arise between him and the ringmaster. As a result, he would normally locate someone to distracted himself with and most of the time that was either Francis, the aerial silk acrobat, or his sister Rylee. Both of which were affective to get his mind off of things. The only difference here was that someone found him before he could go look himself.

"I'm not trying to butter you up! I mean what I say!" Alfred took on a worried expression, trying to show that he really did mean what he had said. Arthur really was attractive. "I wouldn't be lying about something like that, that's for sure. Compliments are nice! Everyone likes hearing them, even you." The American gave another smile, and then shifted some on the cot to get more comfortable.

Arthur looked over at the American with a funny expression and chuckled softly toward the reaction he got from the other. There was no reason for this guy to take what he said to heart. Compliments were something that he didn't hear all too often toward his appearance, so it was strange for him. Regardless of the fact that the man next to him would swear that his compliments were genuine, the freak would never believe them. He was probably just one of those people that were into weird things—he was more than willing to pick up Elizabeth, even during the show, and he wasn't looking at the Snakeman like he had a disease. He had to be one of those people.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders and rested his back against the metal frame of the cot like he had done before, "I doubt you have any worries sitting here by the way, so relax—even if it's just a little."

The American thought about that in his head for a moment before speaking up, "I suppose I can relax… some." He glanced at the snake around him, and then lifted her up without a problem off of his shoulders and placed her partially on his lap instead. "So, those scales on your face and body… do you mind if I ask how you got them? They're not make-up obviously, but I can't help but ask… though I'm sure you get that question a lot, huh?"

He watched as Alfred lifted the snake over his head and on to his lap without any problem. He raised an eyebrow, and then snapped back into reality and looked to the American when he asked the question about his scales. "They're quite real, I can assure you. I can't exactly tell you how I got them—I don't really know myself. They just kind of appeared one day when I was younger. They started on my back and they just got worst as the years went by." He shrugged his shoulders and sighed, that was the basic story. The Englishman wouldn't mention too much though, like the days when he would tear the imperfections from his skin, hiding it from his family, running away, etcetera.

It was Hell until he accepted the fact that he was becoming a freak.

"That's pretty weird that they were just there one day. Doesn't make too much sense really, but…" Alfred shrugged his shoulders and watched as the snake on his lap slithered back up onto his shoulders, settling there without a complaint. He gave the beast a smile, and then changed the subject, "Her name is Elizabeth, right? I remember you saying it when you collected her during you're act, but I want to make sure that I got it right."

"Yes, her name is Elizabeth," The Englishman nodded his head.

"Well she's very beautiful." Alfred wore a small smile on his face.

He reached down then and scooped the reptile up into his arms, standing up and walking closer to Arthur. He let the snake slither from his arms and back onto her owner's shoulders were she rested contently.

The American figured it was time to go. He couldn't sit around here all night and kill time, so he had to suck it up and leave the circus. He was sure it was near closing time anyway, and it was getting pretty late.

"Well, thanks for letting me bother you," He flashed a smile, "Maybe I'll pop by again tomorrow and catch the show again." He turned away, heading to the tents entrance. Before he stepped out though, he hesitated and glanced back over his shoulder. "When do you guys leave town?"

"We usually only stay for about three days in a town, and then move on to the next." The Snakeman stood up from the cot and walked over toward the fleeing American, giving him a slight smile. "You're just lucky that I needed a distraction. Otherwise I wouldn't have let you in here at all."

Alfred just chuckled, and then pulled the flap back and exited. "See you, Arthur."

"Good bye, Alfred," The Englishman had grabbed the flap and was poking his head out, watching as the other man left from his view.

A strange meeting indeed, but it served its purpose—his mood was lifted and he wasn't nearly as mad as he was when his brother had come in just to badger and yell at him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning:** Circus, freak show, snakes, Snakeman [_not_ serpent], talking [Arthur's past—ripping out of scales, etc.]

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia nor any of its characters.

**Author's Notes:** In this chapter you learn a little more about the secret that Alfred holds [not him being a strongman, something else that will soon be revealed in later chapters]. Along with that you see the start of his bonding with Arthur. I'll update soon hopefully, but no promises.

The artwork that's used as the image for this story still belongs to me. You can find it on my DeviantART page.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"Arthur?"

The Snakeman lifted his head up from the book his nose was currently stuffed in and met eyes with his sister—Rylee.

She was tapping her foot on the ground with her arms crossed over her chest, green eyes fierce and bright as she connected them with her brother's matching own.

"You're reading? Don't you ever do anything interesting?" She entered the tent the rest of the way with a grin spread wide across her face, walking over to the cot and plopping down beside the current occupant of it.

The Irishwoman reached over and stole the book from Arthur's grasp, keeping his hands away from it by holding it just out of reach. "Why don't you, Peter, and I all go out into town? I know, I know… your 'condition' will startle people, but they do have this wonder that will hide all those scales from the eyes of morons. Use it on your face and you should be as good as gold. That is, if Blair doesn't find out about this." She stood back up, still holding the book in her hands. "Say no and I'll force you to come. Staying here is awful and all you see are the familiar faces of fellow freaks. It's boring and I know it. You'll thank me in the long run for making you go out and actually catch some fresh air and new sights."

Going out was something that someone like Arthur couldn't do so casually, at least not like the few other acts of the carnival could. They were allowed to go out and walk around without causing any alarm or panic, while Arthur was one of those few who were stuck at the camp due to his 'condition.' If people saw someone like him walking around they'd probably run for the hills to get away from him with the thoughts in mind of if he had some kind of contagious disease or not.

The blond gave the Irish woman an un-amused expression, but then let out an exasperated sigh. He sat up more on the cot, his irritation with her clearly presented on his features. "How do you plan on hiding this from the public, my dearest sister?" The words were filled with sarcasm as he pointed to the affected skin across his cheek. He didn't bother trying to protest the idea of going out, it wasn't like he could win that argument anyway, and a part of him wanted to get out for just a little while. It was against the 'rules' for him to leave, after all freak shows couldn't fit in well with normal looking people, but what Blair didn't know wouldn't hurt him, right?

The Englishman swung his legs off the side of the cot and stood up, looking to the other carnie with a brow raised.

Rylee watched as the Englishman moved up to his feet. A smile crossed her features. "I'm a woman, trust me, I know how to hide unwanted blemishes." She laughed softly and took her brother's hand, pulling him toward the exit of the tent—until she stopped suddenly, releasing his hand. "Put your pet away first, wouldn't want her to run out now would we?" She glanced back at Arthur as she placed the book she still held on a nearby table. "You do that, and I'll be right back." Whether that was meant as a threat or a promise, it didn't matter. She'd return in due time with the required items in hand.

Arthur stood there a moment longer, even after his sister was long gone. He turned then, walking to his cot and getting down on his hands and knees. "Elizabeth…" He called quietly, trying to lure the snake out so he could place her away until he returned later that day. When the beast slithered out, he picked her up and walked her to her cage where she obliged with the obvious, non-spoken request.

She slithered inside as Arthur closed the cage door, saying his apologies to the beast as he turned away and made his way back to his cot. He sat down and then started his waiting, wondering how long it would take his sister to get back so his soon-to-come torture could begin. He wasn't so sure what it was she meant by 'hiding unwanted blemishes.' If she was thinking about the powdery stuff she used often times on herself then she had another thing coming.

It wasn't a long wait at all, in fact, it may have only been a few minutes to ten at most before the fiery woman came barreling through the tent flap and into the Snakeman's lair. She was wearing a wide smile, almost in the shape of a smirk, as he placed a medium sized basket down on the cot beside her brother.

The real surprise here though was when young Peter came following her in after a few minutes. He took a seat on the floor near the cot as he crossed his legs with a happy smile, looking up to his older siblings. "I'm so glad you're coming into town with us, Arthur!" His enjoyment alone was enough to make Arthur want to come with them. His young brother was always a treat to have around. His innocence as a child was enough to put anyone in the grandest mood possible, even the grumpy, sometimes foul, Snakeman.

"Whatever makes you happy, Peter," The Englishman smiled faintly, eyes on the young boy until his head was yanked up. Now he was looking to his sister, whose smirk was much more prominent on her face than it had been before. He put a scowl on his own features in place of the smile prior. "So, what do you plan on doing to me to hide my imperfections, sister dear?"

"Oh, you'll see, brother dearest," She moved one arm, reached down into the basket on the bedding as she fished around for something specific.

When she pulled out a small, glass bottle and a brush of sorts, Arthur's eyes grew wide. "No, no, no, you are _not_ putting that stuff on my face! That's for a woman, not a man!" He had been spot on about the powder.

"Oh, shush, you want to go out with us and make Peter happy, don't you? Sit still!" She grabbed the Snakeman's head again and held him firm, making him comply with her words. "Besides, I could be easily convinced that you're a woman. I've seen how you move on stage," She started to chuckle, and once her laughter calmed down, she brought two fingers to her mouth and let out a wolf-whistle. Rylee began to laugh again as she started up the application of the powder, ignoring the nasty looks she was receiving. "Besides, it's just to help cover up your problem. Least I'm not making you look like a silly buffoon with rosy red cheeks and lips to match."

Arthur was not amused by her words, not at all whatsoever—he wasn't a woman no matter how he moved on stage! He was just flexible, but that really wasn't helping his case, was it? He let that degrading comment go by without uttering a word as he waited for this torturous event to end, he even ignored the valid point she had of her not making him look silly. He was thankful for that, but even if she tried to make him have red lips and cheeks, he'd put his foot down and stop that foolishness before it even had the chance to flourish.

Once the Irishwoman was finished, she pulled a small mirror out from her basket and showed it to Arthur. "Good as new, eh?" She started to chuckle again, "Ok, that's a stretch, but you do look better. If anyone questions it, you got burned… I guess that could work. From afar it does just look like discolored skin, just be careful and don't get to close to people." She shrugged her shoulders as she packed away her things back into the basket.

"A stretch indeed," Arthur looked up to her. The face he saw in the mirror was still a hideous sight, or at least it was to his own eyes. He hated those blasted scales, and even more so, he hated that he could never be normal.

He rose to his feet after he was sure that Rylee was done, and then walked over to a suitcase and flipped the lid open. Inside he removed a hat, placing it on his head to help add some shadow to his face, and then slipped on a pair of shoes as he rolled down both his pants and his shirt sleeves. Once he was finished, he turned around to face his siblings.

Before they left the tent though, Arthur nabbed a coat from the contents of his suitcase as well and slipped it on, hiding even more of his already mostly covered body. He was paranoid to say the least, so the more coverage the better in his eyes.

Rylee nodded her approval as she headed to the exit, holding back the flap for Peter as he went running out, and then waited for Arthur as well. She followed suit, walking to one side of Arthur as Peter walked on his other side.

They were lucky enough to slip out of the carnival without Blair or anyone else really noticing them, so they were in the clear as they made their way down the street and toward the heart of the town.

O~O~O

"Window shopping—that's all I ever can do!" A groan of distaste followed the man's voice as he turned on one heel and sunk low to the ground.

The American gentleman, Alfred, held his head in his hands as he let out another groan to further display his displeasure on his current situation. He was perched just below the large, glass window of a candy shop, and just on the inside was a plethora of sweets and cakes and tarts and i_food_/i. God, he was so hungry he could eat the rations of a whole army if given the chance!

The man stood to his feet after a moment longer, letting his stomach settle down and stop it's sudden whining before he got back up to continue on down the street. He avoided looking behind himself as he turned to his left, but then he hesitated.

Within his sights just down the cobblestones were three people—one in a coat and hat with a shadowed face, a young boy who seemed all too happy, and then a red-headed woman. He recognized the woman, one of the ones from the show he'd seen the day prior. Upon that realization, he recognized the covered man within just a few minutes—it was the Snakeman.

Alfred quickly turned his back to the trio as he started to head in the other direction instead. One day of bothering, or evening he should say, was enough. He didn't want to go disturb the man again the next day as well. Wouldn't that be rude? Well, he wasn't exactly one to be talking about manners and the like.

Alfred let out a long, frustrated sigh as he closed his eyes for a minute, waiting for his stomach to stop its whining once again, and then took one step forward to go on with walking.

Where was he walking too though? A good question that was, and one that the American wouldn't be able to answer anytime soon.

Being out on the streets was risking enough as is, so he needed to go somewhere soon where he'd be good until night fall. Before he left his position, he glanced back once more over his shoulder to see just how far the others were from him—they were drawing close and quick too.

He reached into his pants pocket and fished around for a moment, his fingers coming into contact with a few spare coins he had conveniently in there. He glanced behind himself at the vast glass window, contemplating briefly before dashing into the sweets store. The bell above his head jingled as he entered, and then the door closed swiftly behind him as he ventured further inside.

O~O~O

The Snakeman kept his eyes low to the ground as he and his siblings walked along the cobblestone street. If he avoided looking at people then he'd have a better chance of keeping a low profile, and no one would be apt to look in his direction other than for the fact of him looking like a rather shady character. With the coat on, collar up, and hat to shade his face? He wouldn't be surprised if that alone spooked people.

On occasion he would glance up, looking around at the other people near him. His first intentions of that were to see if he would catch anyone gawking at him, but he soon realized that no one would be staring at him. They were in the hustle and bustle of the town itself—people had their own things and problems to take care of. No one cared if they saw a freak like the Snakeman, or would they? One glimpse and the person witnessing could mistake his covered scales for the plague or some other sort of horrifying disease.

Either way it just wasn't going to end well for him, nor anyone else for that matter.

"Peter," Rylee broke the silence between the three of them after a few minutes, looking down at her youngest sibling. "How about we go in here?" She stopped walking, her hand pointing toward a candy shop that was just to their left. "I've got some money I can spare, and it has been awhile since you've last had any sort of sweets." She wore a smile as she continued on, her steps leading them all toward the threshold of the small establishment.

She hesitated as she glanced over at Arthur, a smirk on her face. "I'll even treat you to something. How's that sound, Mr. Stubborn?"

Arthur just gave her a nasty look as he followed her and Peter into the shop, the bell tingling over head as the door jostled it. When all three entered, the door clunked shut nicely behind them.

Peter took off the moment they entered the place, heading off to go look and stare in awe at all the cakes and sweets all about. He could choose only one thing that he wanted, and it couldn't be anything too horribly expensive, so he had a lot to choose from. The only problem being _what_ he was in the mood for getting.

This was by far the hardest choice so far he ever had to make in his young life, and he wasn't the only one caught up with a choice to make.

Alfred, who had mistakenly gone into the establishment before the others had entered, was busy looking at the tarts and cakes in the display case up front. He had limited choices though, but the hardest part of it was the fact that he was low on coins. With so few, his options of what to purchase were next to none almost.

"Oh, those look delicious." The suddenness of a voice beside him startled him briefly, but when he glanced over, he was accepting to the fact that a young boy was near him, looking at the cakes with him. It took him a moment to realize just who that boy was with, party wise, and when he did finally take notice, he cursed himself mentally.

So much for avoiding the Snakeman so he wouldn't be a bother, huh?

Alfred played along though, putting a wide smile on his face as he looked over at the boy. "I was looking at the cherry ones."

"Strawberry looks good too though, doesn't it?" The boy inquired, his eyes fixated on the tarts just out of reach beyond the glass barrier.

"Yeah," Alfred turned his gaze back to the sweets, his eyes glancing briefly over the flavor of topic. "I suppose it does."

He heard footsteps then, and when he shifted to look at who they belonged too, the Irishwoman was hovering above him and the boy. She glanced for a moment at the American, before focusing more on the child. "You find what you want yet?" She bent over some, her eyes looking at the treats behind the glass.

Peter nodded, "Yup, sure have! I want a cherry tart." He pointed, grubby fingers smudging the previously clean and streak-free glass. "Same as him." He looked to Alfred with a smile, "Right?"

The American nodded his head, a little dumbstruck for a moment before he snapped back into reality. "Same as me, yeah." He chuckled softly as he stood up, looking at the red-headed woman for a moment.

Rylee straightened her back out, hand on her hip as she glanced the American over with fierce eyes, "Familiar appearance, but I can't put a name to such a handsome face. Care to shine some light, love?" She furrowed her brows as she racked her brain, trying to figure it out for herself. He may have been vaguely familiar, but she couldn't even place a face to a location where she _had_ seen him before.

The moment Alfred opened his mouth though his name came forth from a different source. One he didn't speak or utter himself.

"Alfred?" It was the Snakeman, whom rounded the corner and joined the three of them where they stood near the tarts. "Well, a surprise this is indeed."

"I'll have to agree with you on that one," Alfred nodded his head, putting on a rather sheepish smile. "I was just getting something to munch on and was leaving. I'll be out of your hair." He moved away from the trio, heading to the counter to ask for what it was he wanted.

The woman fetched the tart, wrapping it up in parchment paper as she slid it into a bag and pushed it toward the American. It was only when she named the price that he fell silent for a moment, contemplating. He was two coins short…

Next thing he knew though he was being pushed aside and in his place the red-headed woman stood. "Another one of those tarts, and… hm… on second thought, make that three more of those tarts, one raspberry though. And make that all together please." She passed over the appropriate amount of coins and waited as the woman fetched the other three, wrapping them all up and then placing them in the same bag as the first.

"Keep the change ma'am," She waved a hand to dismiss the idea. It was only a few coins, nothing to worry too much over. Peter took the bag of sweets off the counter, and then the four of them left. Once outside though, the American gave the woman a funny look.

"Why did you do that?"

"Do what? Pay for your tart? Well you were shy a few, so I thought why the hell not? An act of kindness should not be questioned. Accept it, and keep your money. I don't want it." Rylee pushed the offered coins back toward Alfred when he tried to give them to her.

Alfred just pocketed them and scratched the back of his head, looking away in embarrassment. How sad, he didn't even have enough money to pay for his own, somewhat, meal. He'd spent a good amount of it the day before on a place to stay for the night. It sucked up all that he had practically. "Well, thank you…" He glanced at the Irishwoman briefly before turning his gaze away. He felt so silly, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

"Not a problem," She flashed the male a smile, and then furrowed her brows, "Alfred, right? Is that what Arthur called you?"

"Yeah, Alfred," He answered, not the least bit of hesitant. You'd think he would have been, but apparently he was rather comfortable around this group of people. He wasn't at all too surprised really, they were freaks like him.

"He was the one I mentioned to you—the one who was in my tent with me last night?" Arthur chimed in then, stepping up from where he was standing and glancing from his sister to the American.

"Oh, yes, I remember now," The Irishwoman chuckled at herself before turning away. She glanced over her shoulder and at the attractive stranger, "From the looks of it, you can't even pay for a proper hotel, can you?"

Alfred chewed on his lower lip, the feeling of embarrassment washing over him. He was called out so easily. "I bought a room last night, but could only afford that night…" He trailed off, not wanting to continue. From the sound of this new conversation, he was going to be asked to stay at the circus, wasn't he? As much as he would like that, he wasn't so sure if that would fly or not…

Rylee put on a wide smile then, but her words only confirmed the thoughts that Alfred had. "Come stay with us then, least until we leave I suppose, that is if you really can't afford a room tonight, or any night, that is."

"Rylee…" Arthur tried, but was shushed instantly.

"We've a spare tent for you to stay in, and you can watch the show for free tonight if you want. I don't want to embarrass you to bad, but I do feel awful for you. Not having a decent place to sleep is absolutely dreadful I'm sure. Also, from the looks of it too, you're not eating so well either, are you?"

She shifted again and walked to the young man, intertwining an arm with his own and started to walk side by side with him. "A few nights or longer won't harm anyone, and it should be good for you in the end. Good meals and a good rest? I should think so."

With a smile, she continued to lead the American with the rest of her party following behind. Peter was more than happy to have another person with them, stranger or not, but Arthur was a bit indifferent. He was on good terms with the lad of course, and he seemed nicer than most—he didn't gawk either which was a plus—but something seemed a little off about him. He seemed just as paranoid as he had the first night he met him.

Either way he was probably going to be seeing more of the American later in the evening and after the show. The man seemed to be drawn to him, which he couldn't blame him too much—he was the freakiest of them all, despite the previous comments spoken to him about being attractive. He still figured that the man was lying about that just to get on his good side.

O~O~O

It was much later in the evening, hours after the show was done and over with for the day, when the American came peeking through Arthur's tent. It was only a matter of time before he came to bother him—or keep him company. Either way was fine with Arthur. He did actually enjoy the company more than he would have thought.

Alfred was staying in a tent by himself, but it resided near Rylee's tent and wasn't too far from Arthur's. It was a smaller tent than the usual size, but that was quite all right. The man was only staying for a good few days or longer. Besides that he barely had any belongings with him—only about a suitcase or two, if even.

When he heard the coming footsteps just outside, and then the fabric pulling back of his tent entrance, the Snakeman lifted his head from the book in his hands and gazed over at the American standing in the entryway.

Alfred wore a sheepish smile, "Sorry if I'm bothering you…" His voice trailed off as he stepped further into the tent, glancing about briefly before his eyes landed on Arthur again. Before he could even open his mouth to speak the other blond pointed to the end of the cot he was perched on. Where he pointed rested the black beast he'd come to adore so much and in just over the course of one day too!

Alfred put on a large smile as he walked to the cot, sitting down gingerly as he scooped the snake up into his arms with ease. "How'd you know I was looking for her?"

"You're the only one who's taken a fancy to her—you always search for her first thing when you enter my tent; each time without fail." Arthur gave the other male a small smile as he dog-eared his current page and folded the book closed. He placed it down and swung his legs over the metal frame, looking at Alfred momentarily.

"So what brings you here, Alfred? It's rather late actually… or so I think it is. It's dark out after all. Shouldn't most everyone be away in bed?"

"I couldn't sleep…" Alfred let the beast in his arms slither up onto his shoulders, resting there contently even when he scratched the back of his head. "I was restless," He smiled sheepishly.

"I see," Arthur nodded his head simply.

"That," He paused briefly before continuing on, "and I've had a question on my mind for a while now… since the show began to be more specific here."

"Well go on and ask then."

"Your sister said I could stay for a bit, till you guys leave, so…"

"We leave by the end of the week, yes," Arthur nodded his head, answering the not-yet-spoken question that was well on its way of leaving the American's mouth. "You already know that we travel all over, so after this place we must be on our way to the next."

A frown crossed over the American's face the longer he sat there, listening to the words spoken in that sweet accent. He didn't want the circus to leave. They made for a great cover for himself, and he enjoyed the comfort and hospitality that they showed him—if they left, then it was time for him to leave as well. It was due time for that anyway.

Alfred looked over at the Snakeman for a moment before an idea popped into his mind. "If you leave by the end of the week… do you think I could come with you?"

"What?" Arthur's eyebrows shot up, surprise taking over his features. "I don't think that would go to well with the ring master…" His voice trailed off. He wasn't so sure about this guy himself. He'd only just met him the day before, and he was already taking up residence a few tents down because his sister just had to offer. He wasn't complaining about it, the guy was a real looker and seemed to look at the Snakeman like a real person without seeing all the scales on his flesh, but despite all of that he was still a stranger to him.

The American wet his lips, contemplating for a moment before he opened his mouth to speak. When he did though, he was hoping that it would grab the other man's attention and work toward helping his case. "I do have something useful to offer you—the whole circus really."

"And what exactly would that be?" Curiosity replaced surprise on the Englishman's face as he gazed down at the man still on the cot with him. He was just full of surprises, wasn't he?

"I noticed that your little group doesn't have a strongman…"

"We never found a genuine one. Most are fakes since they use charms on the dumbbells to make it seem like they're lifting it with all their might and strength. We don't take fakes—Blair likes genuine." Arthur nodded his head matter-o-factly, but he wasn't so sure what a strongman had to do with the offer that Alfred was trying to get across.

"Lemme show you something then," The American wore a wide grin across his lips as he looked to Arthur, getting up onto his feet and removing the massive snake form around his shoulders. He placed Elizabeth down on the bedding, and then knelt beside the cot, getting in an awkward position as he lifted the first corner of the frame up off of the ground.

That alone sent Arthur into a sudden panic, and he grabbed for the edge of the metal frame to keep from falling backwards. He opened his mouth to try and speak, but next thing he knew he was up in the air and the other blond had disappeared from his sights.

"Bloody hell! Give a lad some warning before you go and give him a fright like this!" He was gripping the edge of the cot for dear life, the color having drained from his knuckles and turned a bone white. He cautiously leaned forward, peering over the edge with the constant fear of falling nagging his conscious.

Beside him Elizabeth shifted and coiled herself around one of the metal poles of the cot.

His eyes met with Alfred's jubilant blue as a cocky grin was slapped on his face. Arthur met that smile with a scowl.

"I know this isn't exactly good proof of just how strong I am, but it works for now I suppose, right?" He chuckled some, and then carefully placed the cot back down with a little difficulty. After the bed was settled back on the ground, the blond took his place on the hard floor instead of the cot and looked to the other expectantly.

When he earned no real response from the Englishman, he decided to use that moment to explain himself.

"I'm stronger than any strongman out there, or at least any I've seen or heard of. I'm genuine, and don't have any silly charms or spells cast on me." He fidgeted a little, looking to his lap for a moment before glancing to the Snakeman. "I break things easily, so I've picked up the habit of being wary of touching anything—or anyone. I can honestly say that I don't know my own strength, so I have to be cautious." He scratched the back of his head, and then dropped the hand back into his lap. "If I proved to you just how strong I am, using a different means other than a silly cot and you're weight on top, do you think I could join your circus then?"

Arthur had to wait a moment, letting all the information he'd just learned and been told process through his mind without just going in one ear and out the other. After a few minutes he nodded his head slowly. "Yes. You prove to me just how strong you are and we can talk to Blair about it." He couldn't exactly say no… if he really was genuine then this was the chance of a lifetime for the circus. He didn't exactly want to condemn such a sweet man to the life as a carnie, a show for people to gawk at, but he also didn't exactly know the man's current life. Hell, life here could be the best one he'd had in years.

If he couldn't buy his own food, a tart of all things for goodness sake, and he spent all his money on only one night at a motel, then the man had to be poor and Arthur pitied him because of it.

"Alfred…"

The American looked up, blue eyes filled with hope.

"You're a peculiar lad, aren't you?" The Snakeman placed a gentle smile on his face, and then rose to his feet. He stood in front of the other, offering out his hands to him. When they were taken, Arthur helped him to his feet. "Tomorrow in the evening we'll test your strength out and see just how strong you are."

Alfred just wore a wide smile, the happiness he was currently feeling showing through in all aspects. The previously on-edge kind of character that the man was displaying was no longer in view to the Snakeman at that moment. All he saw was the childish, handsome smile that adorned the younger man's tan face.

Even though he was wary of this man at first, he honestly didn't seem as bad as Arthur would have thought.

"Sounds good to me all right," Alfred let go of the other man's hands, stuffing his own into his pockets as he stood there for a moment in thought. When he spoke again, he looked down at Arthur with a sheepish smile on his lips. "Do you mind if I stay in here with you for a bit longer? I don't exactly feel like going to bed just yet…" He liked the company; it was something that he wasn't used to since he'd been living alone for what felt like ages.

Living alone on the run.

"I suppose I don't mind." Arthur turned away and took his seat back on his cot, leaning his elbows on his knees as he gazed up at the taller man. "The company is nice, but I must say… I was a bit, well, uncertain of you at first, but you're not as bad as I was trying to make you seem to be in my mind."

"So what you're saying is that you like my company?" The amount of shock that was audible in the American's voice was something that Arthur wouldn't have expected. The man continued, "Most people think I'm too bold, or too talkative, or they get wary, much like you did, about how on-edge I am all the time. It's hard for me to relax around people I don't know!" He started to chuckle, but then shook his head. He looked down at his lap, but didn't add anything more.

"You don't gawk at me very much, that has a lot to do with me enjoying your company." Arthur stated, watching the American carefully. "You are talkative, you are rather bold at times, and your edginess can make a lot of people uncomfortable, but you seem like a nice enough guy." He was trying to be reassuring, but he wasn't sure if that was getting through or not.

"You're not so bad yourself, in fact I've grown rather fond of you even though I just met you like a few days ago or something." Alfred scratched the back of his head, wearing a silly smile on his face as he let his eyes wander back up toward the man on the cot. "My favorite act in the show, and so far my favorite person to be around too."

The Englishman's cheeks warmed up from the other's words. Despite how flattering they were, he still couldn't see why this guy was always throwing compliments at him—what was he gaining from them by doing so? It made no sense to poor Arthur, but he accepted the compliments anyway. He did have to admit though that he himself _was_ getting used to this man—used to him being around and used to his company even though it'd been such a short time of knowing one another.

"What's made you so fond of me, Alfred? And what's made my act your favorite versus all the others'? Do you have more of a fondness toward snakes or something?"

"Most of the acts are fairly common I guess, though this was my first time ever seeing a genuine freak show." Alfred shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know why I like yours so much. I do like snakes though. They're fascinating creatures." He chewed on his lower lip for a moment, thinking about something in his mind before he continued. "Elizabeth just popped out to me and stole my attention. I've never seen such a beautiful snake before." That brought a soft smile to his lips. "And you of course. You stole my attention quicker than she did I think."

A soft pink tinted Alfred's cheeks as he turned his head away. Like he had stated a few times before, that man perched on the cot with imperfect skin and vibrant, unnatural eyes was one of the most captivating beings he'd ever been lucky enough to lay his eyes on.

"You were also the one act that really stood out to me, and was the most entertaining." Alfred turned his head back to the other man once the color in his face died down.

Arthur felt even more flattered by the man's words, but he didn't have anything to say to them. What could he say? He settled for simply listening until the blond stated that he was the most entertaining, and then he tossed in his two cents. "I must disagree with you there; the most entertaining act I think would be Gilbert, the fire breather. He's rather entertaining when he's not paying attention to what he's doing." One would be amazed with how the albino manages to never burn his face, though some other parts of his body weren't as lucky. He'd burn his hands, or his arms, or on occasion his legs or feet, but never his face which was probably all that truly mattered, right?

You could hide imperfections easily if they weren't on your face. The Snakeman knew about such things, which was one reason why he was partially envious of the American. He was a freak much like himself, but at least he had good looks and charm on his side unlike Arthur who was damned forever with the flaws on his face, visible to all to see and all to fear.

Arthur turned his head toward the end of the cot he was perched on, his eyes having caught something moving. It was only Elizabeth though, so he watched for a moment as the snake slithered her way more onto the metal bars and coiled around them, part of her body still resting on the bedding itself. He turned his attention back to the man sitting on the floor then, a partial smile on his face.

Talking like this with the man, like good old friends and no gawking, watchful eyes upon him, was nice in actuality. Whatever it was that he had been wary about with him wasn't as prominent as it had been. It was as if the guy had finally relaxed a little.

"Yeah, he was pretty interesting too… he must enjoy catching himself on fire or something because he sure did it a lot during his act in the show," Alfred smiled softly, replaying that act over in his head. There were a lot of other performances that he liked just as much as Arthur's, but he just had more of a pull toward the Snakeman. That was why he was his favorite. Did he really need an explanation?

The American changed the subject then. "So… do you like being here? In the circus I mean… like, do you enjoy being on stage and having people either stare in awe, or scream from shock? It's got to get old at some point, right?" He supposed that being in the freak show would be good for the money though, and from how it seemed Arthur did enjoy being here. There wasn't much else the Snakeman could do though, job-wise, least not with those scales scattered all about his flesh.

"I do enjoy most aspects of being a carnie, like the traveling part of it." The Englishman smiled some, "Though being on stage isn't so bad either. I can handle the screaming and stares of awe when I'm on stage, it's to be expected. The only time I don't care for it is after hours. Yes, I have… imperfections, but don't we all? I understand that people can't help it though." He shook his head and trailed off, ending that thought there. He was starting to head into a rant mood which he didn't want to burden Alfred with.

Why was it that he could understand other peoples' actions when they wouldn't even bother understanding what he's been going though? The Snakeman pushed the thoughts aside; he didn't care for thinking about things like that since he'd wind up over-thinking about it all. That never had a good outcome for him.

"No one's perfect, just in peoples' minds skin deep imperfections don't compare to visible ones like yours." He shrugged, and then lay back on the floor. He shifted himself to his side so he could still look at the Snakeman, a soft smile on his face. "What's it like with the other carnies? Living with them all the time?" He brought his eyebrows together in sudden thought, bringing a hand up and readjusting the glasses on his face.

There was still one question that was nagging at his thoughts—how did Arthur end up the 'Snakeman'? He brushed it away though, even asking now after knowing him a little better would be just plain rude.

"It's rather…interesting to live with the others." Arthur chuckled lightly as a small smile tugged at his lips. "There is probably never a boring moment, something is always happening. As you could see from the show we have some pretty interesting characters here to keep it quite entertaining and relaxed." Despite all the things that made the carnie's unique to the human eye, it was really their personality that kept the spirit alive. Whether it was the younger German brother scowling the older for burning their tent down, the Italian's bickering about something ridiculous, or the ditsy Spaniard talking up a storm or even trying out new tricks—there was always something going on.

The Snakeman was probably one of the more 'boring' acts after shows since he was normally keeping to himself, besides when the Frenchman felt the need to 'share his love' with him. That was never usually wanted—or at least Arthur didn't want any part of it.

Arthur stretched out his bones and leaned back, supporting his weight with his hands on the bedding and looked down at the American still currently occupying his floor. "I know the real question that's been on your mind," Arthur called Alfred out so easily. Everyone had the same question on their mind when they saw the Snakeman, and he was sure that the American was no different. "You want to know how I became 'the Snakeman,' correct?"

"Can you read my mind or something?"

Arthur just laughed and shook his head, "Everyone wants to know. I figured you would like to know as well. I'm ok with sharing it with you. Not like it's anything too horribly personal." He gave the other man a reassuring look before continuing on, "I don't know how I came to be like this exactly. I mean it didn't happen overnight, but I don't have a reason as to why it happened in the first place." The Englishman sighed lightly and turned his gaze elsewhere, away from the American. He simply drifted away from reality and replayed the events that passed over the years in his head like some sort of slide-show.

"I grew up around the circus. It was kind of the 'family business' type of thing. I wasn't planning on joining them in this madness though, but it seemed that fate had a different plan for me." He took a brief pause. "It started when I was around fourteen, fifteen? I started getting the scales on my body—my arm being the first place they began to appear. At first I didn't know what was happening, so I ripped them out one by one until I saw no more." The Englishman chuckled nervously at that memory, remembering that it hurt like hell to tear off your own skin, but at that time he was scared and didn't know what was happening to himself. He could still remember the tingling, sharp pain from every time he would dig one out, and he had to hold back a wince so he could continue on with his story. He couldn't help the hand that rubbed against the scales adorning his left arm though, as if brushing away the memory that he had stirred up.

"Every time I dug them out they would just come back with the healed skin. That continued for some time until my sister caught me one day and convinced me just to hide it. That worked, but once it started spreading to my face I could hide it anymore. Blair saw it as a way to make more money, and now I'm a part of the family freak show. There's more to the tale of course, but that's the jist of it and all you really need to know about it."

"Sounds really awful. I bet tearing them out hurt like holy hell, didn't it? And honestly, that's kind of a sad tale there… your brother, Blair, is the Ring Master, right? He seems like the type to be money obsessed." Alfred just shrugged his shoulders lamely, "My sympathy may not be much, but I am sorry about what happened to you. I don't know what's it 's like to have such a problem, clearly." That much was obvious.

"So, in a way it kind of started out like a disease?" The American inquired further.

Arthur scratched the back of his head, making a confused face toward the other man. "Awful indeed—I wouldn't recommend ripping off your own flesh, that's for sure. And I suppose you could it a disease." He chuckled lightly, his shoulders shrugging, and then he dropped the subject. Alfred's sympathy was truly unneeded; it was better to be apart of the freak show living his life than at some lab getting needles shoved through his arms and waiting for a solution that would never come.

That's how the Englishman saw it at least. Plus, he was pretty happy at the circus for the most part.

"Anyway…" He tried to change the subject.

"So we still on for tomorrow evening? Proving my strength?" The American raised a brow.

Arthur nodded.

"All right… it's getting pretty late by the way, or at least I'm sure it is. Should probably go, huh? I'm sure you want your sleep." The younger man then got up onto his feet, looking over at both Arthur and Elizabeth still occupying the cot. "See you tomorrow then? And I'll probably catch the show again, if no one minds that is." He sent a wink toward the Englishman as he made his way to the exit of the tent, sending one last farewell as he left through the flap and went on his merry way back to his own tent to sleep for the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning:** Circus, freak show, snakes, Snakeman [not serpent], Blair [Scotland], Smut [yaoi, guy on guy], fluff here and there, minor revelations here and there on various topics [Alfred's past, Arthur's thoughts, so on and so forth],

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia nor any of its characters.

**Author's Notes:** So here's the third chapter to this story. I know a lot of you have been eager for an update, so I hope 29 pages [on Microsoft Word] is enough to satisfy you lot. This took me awhile, and I am sad to let you all know that an update, chapter four, probably won't be for some time. I'll be working on it, yes, but I still am in college so I've got work to be taking care of.

This should be enough to last you guys, and come one, I gave you a love scene that you all should enjoy. Anyway, hope it does satisfy you all, and hopefully an update will be sooner than I said. Don't hold your breath on it though.

By the way, something that may interest you lot, there are blogs for a few of the characters from this story on Tumblr. Snakeman and Strongman are together, and then there's a Ringmaster as well. [ ask-strongman-and-snakeman-usuk ] [ ask-ringmaster-scotland ]

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Swiftly the hours passed.

The show went on once in the afternoon, and then once again in the evening after all the children and families had gone home for the day and all who remained were adults and stragglers.

The circus was a tiring business, despite how fun or easy it may have sounded to any onlookers.

It was tough in all aspects—physically and mentally.

Once the day's events were for sure over, Arthur fled to his tent to seek a little bit of relaxation and contentment before the American found his way to him like he usually did. That night he had a reason though, but all those other times? Alfred had no legitimate excuse to use except for the obvious—he enjoyed the company.

The Snakeman seated himself on his cot, a book lying open in his hands.

His happy place was when he was reading. He could get lost in the world of another place, different people, interesting plots and dramas. That was why he read—not just for the sheer idea of reading to pass the time, though that definitely played a good part.

It felt like a millennium had passed by the time Alfred came entering his tent, cautiously at first, and then more confident as he stood near the entrance.

He scratched the back of his head momentarily as Arthur dog-eared his page and closed the book quietly.

When Arthur looked back toward the American, he saw that he had settled himself onto the floor with a small smile.

"Hey there." It was simple, his words, yet for some reason Arthur found himself fighting off a large grin. Instead he put on a tiny smile.

"'Ello," The Englishman nodded his head in a polite manner.

He saw the question lingering in Alfred's eyes, and so he quickly put up a hand to still the thoughts that were about to form into words on the young man's tongue. He decided to answer before he asked.

"As soon as a majority of the other carnie's are done and in for the night then we'll head on over to the main tent for what it is you're waiting for. Okay?" He put on a gentle smile, watching the other man for a moment before occupying himself with a different sight.

Damn were those blue eyes captivating. Like two deep pools that were never ending and warm.

Arthur quickly shook away the thoughts. He was being silly.

Absolutely silly.

"Gosh, you're a mind reader!" Alfred chuckled from where he sat, never once noticing the distraught expressions that the Briton showed across his features. He was too busy looking around the tent, lost in his own thoughts for a moment before he returned back to reality. He wore a goofy grin on his face as he looked back to Arthur. "So, until then…"

Arthur disregarded the question that was asked, and instead voiced an observation that he had had the chance to notice. "You seem an awful lot more relaxed than you have been, and in good spirits at that…"

"Yeah! I… I had one of the best nights of sleep I've ever had. Been awhile since I last slept proper and… and… uhm… safe." He scratched the back of his head rather nervously, his eyes darting away from the man on the cot.

"But you slept at an inn the other evening, did you not?"

"Well yeah, but I barely count that as good sleep. I didn't even get a wink in, and by the time the sun was up I'd only had about an hour of rest. I was… hm…" He stopped there, thinking something over in his mind before he spoke again, "Paranoid." The last word was spoken softly, and he said it with a bit of shame clearly audible.

"I see…" Arthur spoke softly himself, and then rose to his feet and stepped closer to the American. He offered out his hands to him, a slight smile on his face, "You're a very interesting card, Alfred, and I know that you have many secrets inside."

Once the other man took his hands, he assisted him up to his feet and had to tilt his head upward to see his beautiful, blue, alluring eyes.

Alfred let his hands go the moment he was to his feet, moving one to the back of his head where he scratched nervously again. So much for being relaxed. "Secrets? Is it obvious that I have some?" He released a nervous chuckle, looking downward as lashes covered those blue orbs of his. "Everyone has secrets. I'm no different."

Arthur instinctively reached up, placing a hand on the American's cheek and made him look toward him. "We have an hour of waiting," He changed the subject, moving his hand back to his side at the same time, "What would _you_ like to do in the meantime? I've no plans save for how we'll test out your strength."

The Snakeman turned away, making his way back to the cot where he took a seat on the edge warily. After a brief moment of thought, he patted the space beside him, offering with no words for the American to sit on the bed and not on the floor.

"I don't know…" He looked at Arthur as he sat, and when he saw his hand patting the sheets, he stood up and took the silent offer, sitting down next to the other male. "We could talk like we usually do? I do like talking with you after all." He put on a sweet smile, glancing shyly over at the green-eyed man.

"Think of a topic for discussion and we can talk then I suppose." Arthur turned his head to gaze at the man perched beside him, handsome smile plastered on his sun-loved face.

He was mentally scolding himself for all the thoughts he was having about this man. He was still a stranger no matter much he got to know him over the past few days—still a stranger.

Alfred had to think about it for a bit—the question that left the other man's tongue. At first he was drawing a blank, and so he wet his lips thoughtfully for a moment before he finally spoke up with something in mind. "I've been wondering…"

Arthur lifted his head some, looking back at the American as he broke the growing silence.

"Your scales… would you mind if I felt them?"

At first the Snakeman was taken aback by the request. He never liked it when people stared at him, much less ever actually _touched_ him for God's sake, but he calmed and put on a more reasonable expression.

"I…" He started, but before he could get any further, Alfred was going off with a string of apologies. He was saying how he didn't mean to offend, taking the first shown emotion that he saw on Arthur's face as a sign of he had just insulted him and made him mad.

The American wasn't trying to achieve that; he was just genuinely curious.

"Sh, sh, Alfred," The Snakeman put up a hand, showing a stopping gesture, and then placed a reassuring smile on his fair-skinned face. "You can touch them. I'm not offended, you're ok. I don't mind, lo—lad." He caught himself before he could let the word 'love' slip passed his lips. It was a term of endearment he used on family, or on a lover if he had one—Francis didn't count though, least not to Arthur.

Why he _almost_ used it on Alfred he couldn't fathom.

The Englishman sat up straighter, pulling his left sleeve up a little as he began to roll it. With each fold made, more and more of the green infection became visible, and Alfred couldn't help it as he leaned forward to see a little better.

"Are you sure?" The younger blond asked in a small voice, still unsure if the Snakeman was being genuine about what he had said or not. He knew he hated gawking, so why would he let some guy he barely knew touch him? Arthur had a right to be offended.

"Yes, I'm sure," With a soft smile, he turned himself and presented his arm to the other man, giving him an encouraging nod.

Alfred reached out tentatively, second guessing ever asking, but he swallowed down his doubts and let the tips of his fingers brush against the cool flesh.

It was as if actually touching a real snake, like touching Elizabeth, only on a human appendage instead of a thick, muscly reptile. It at first startled him, since he figured it would feel a bit different, but after a moment he put on a smile. "Just like a snake. You are genuine."

"You had doubts?"

"Of course not."

The two men shared a brief moment of eye-contact, and then both broke out into smiles and Alfred chuckled out loud.

Like friends, Arthur realized suddenly. They were acting like good ol' friends.

He didn't know what to make of it. It was a good feeling, yet troublesome at the same time.

"I have a question for you, Alfred." Arthur started slowly, leaving his sleeve rolled up even though the other man was done feeling the skin. "Yesterday you mentioned how you often broke things, on accident, yes?"

The American nodded.

Arthur's cheeks flushed red for a moment, and so he turned his head to the side to avoid eye contact as he continued. "You have a tendency to break things, and people as well..." He paused, "This may be a little personal, but… does that go for your… uhm… lovers… as well?" As he finished up his question, he could feel both of his ears and his right cheek—the side without the flaws—growing redder by the second.

Alfred's cheeks were matching the color of Arthur's the moment the question was finished and the words were processed by his brain. "Uh… well… I uh, I suppose so." He scratched the back of his head for a moment, "Well, when I get overly excited, about anything—happiness, pleasure, you name it—I kind of… forget about my 'gift' and sometimes…" He trailed off, letting Arthur finish that one on his own. "And by the way, I've never had a lover before, so I honestly wouldn't know if… if that would happen to my partner or not."

He was a man on the run. He had no time for love, and it wasn't as if love found its way to him anyway. He was alone, and he was used to it, but that didn't mean that he would be against the idea of it if he ever got the chance.

Perhaps if he did find love he'd be able to have something stable in his life—something stable, something happy, something to keep him going every day, and something to call his own.

Arthur remained sitting there thinking the words over and letting them really sink in. It was a surprise to him that Alfred had never had a lover, what with his good looks and all, but once again he didn't really know his life that well at all. Perhaps he was busy and didn't have time for something as silly as love.

Who knew though?

The American broke the silence again, looking at Arthur with a slight frown on his face, "You think enough time has passed by now? I really want to get this test done and over with so I can see just how much I can lift. I'm kind of excited, but a little nervous too!"

"I suppose it's been enough time, yes. Most are probably at the dinner hall anyway…" The Snakeman's words trailed off slowly as he stood to his feet. He waited until Alfred did the same, and then took a few steps toward the tents exit. He held the flap back and waited for the other to exit, and then followed him out. Arthur took the lead then and headed out toward the main ring.

Alfred followed him, right at his side the whole time with his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his trousers. He remained silent, keeping any words or thoughts to himself. He had nothing else to question and nothing really to talk about or discuss. He didn't mind the silence, and he was sure that Arthur felt similar.

Within a matter of moments they were entering the dark, yet rather large, main ring of the traveling circus. Arthur went in ahead of the other male, moving to go flick on one of the stages main lights so they wouldn't have to work in the dark.

Once the light was on, Alfred made his way toward it in the middle of the structure and waited for the other to join him, which happened shortly.

When he did join him, Arthur pointed to a rather large pole that a part of the spotlight caught onto. It towered all the way up to the very tippy top of the tent itself, and the shorter blond explained to the newbie just what that pole was—the main support beam of the whole structure.

It was a warning, and one that Alfred would keep in mind.

Near one edge of the ring of light sat a dumbbell, one that, once Arthur pointed it out to him just after he shared his little tip, he took notice too.

"Is that all that I'm going to be lifting?" From the looks of it, it was pretty lame. Just a simple dumbbell? Where the hell was the challenge in that?

However, right as the American opened his mouth to say anymore, he was cut short by the Englishman. "It's a _charmed_ dumbbell. I had our sorcerer cast something it. With every five minutes it gains another two hundred pounds, meaning that it gets heavier the more you stand there and hold it. It starts off at about two hundred pounds, but I'm presuming that you can lift that with no problem, right?" Arthur gave a small smile, and then crossed his arms over his chest.

"Before we get started…" The Snakeman moved away for a moment, leaving the circle of light momentarily before returning with a stool in his hands. He placed it down at a reasonable distance from Alfred, his features still in view, and took a seat. He crossed his legs and leaned one elbow on his knee. "We may be here for a bit, by the way… but go on, pick it up. The sooner the better." He nodded his head, and then added, "Also, when you reach your limit do be sure to drop it. Don't strain yourself." He shifted and reached into his pocket, removing a pocket watch from its depths. "I'll also be keeping track up here just how much weight your holding," He tapped his head with a smile.

Alfred nodded his head, and then bent over and lifted the dumbbell without any sort of problem. He held it up high over his head, using both hands for the moment until he realized that he didn't exactly have too. It was light enough to hold with only one.

"So, until I get tired of this thing and can't handle anymore, we just talk and you keep track?" He glanced down at the man perched on the stool, an eyebrow raised.

Arthur thought that the question about them talking while they waited was silly. Talking was obviously the most logical thing to do in this situation, so why question it? If they didn't talk then they'd just sit there, or stand in the American's case, and stare at one another, or the room, awkwardly.

He liked looking at the American, don't get him wrong, but it'd be just odd for the both of them.

The Briton shifted his legs, putting both heels on the first rung of the stool and resting both of his elbows on his knees. He looked at Alfred. "I've a few questions I'd like to ask you though, if you don't mind."

"Course I don't mind."

"Hm… well, I don't mean to intrude further or be too personal again, but back at my tent you mentioned how you've never been with someone? Never had a lover before?"

Alfred nodded, but didn't say anything.

"Why is that…?"

"Well…" Alfred fidgeted a little, shifting from one foot to the other momentarily before casting his eyes downward at the floor. As he thought for the right words he could feel the dumbbell gaining more weight, but it was still light enough for the man to hold with only one hand. "I'm afraid, honestly. Like I've told you, when I get too excited—or just emotional in general—I forget about my strength and I break things. What if I did break them during…" He cleared his throat, not wanting to name the act he was meaning, "And what if we got into a stupid, silly little argument and… and I hurt them or something… I'd never be able to live with myself knowing that I hurt the one I loved because I was careless and stupid."

His grip on the dumbbell was tightening with every word the American spoke, and it was clear that he was becoming quite emotional just by talking about why he never was with anyone. It made Arthur frown from how frightened the man was just to be with someone because he didn't want to harm then in anyway.

"Usually when you love someone, you're more careful and aware about them. You don't want to harm them in anyway, so most take precautions… I'm sure you'd be the same way, Alfred. You've a gentle personality despite your tough physique, and any lady would be a lucky gal to get a chance with you."

"I appreciate the kind words, but I doubt any girl, or guy, would want to be with me," Alfred shook his head. He had a few reasons in mind as to why no one would want to be with him, but he wasn't about to share those with Arthur. They may ruin his chances of joining the circus all together.

It took Arthur a moment to realize just what it was Alfred had said—not only girls was he interested in, but guys as well. So nonchalantly spoken that he wasn't sure if the American even realized that he said it or not.

He pushed the thoughts aside as he tried to reassure the younger man, ignoring the fact that his cheeks were becoming rosier than he would have liked. "You don't know that for sure, Alfred. You've never tried, but I do understand where you're coming from. Better safe than sorry, yes?"

He averted his gaze elsewhere then, avoiding the strange look he was getting from Alfred. Arthur was feeling just silly. He was letting his damn emotions run wild with the strange fantasy of Alfred perhaps liking him.

That would never happen.

He was a freak, and Alfred was at least normal in looks. Not even the man who _did_ give the Snakeman a bit of attention liked the fact that he had scales all over his body. He would avoid touching them at any cost, but it wasn't like those encounters happened too often anyway.

Francis didn't love him at all. He merely used him as a last resort whenever no one else would give him any, and Arthur was ashamed to say that he would most always comply when the Frenchman asked him. He was lonely and, for lack of better words, desperate. Sometimes even he would seek out the Frenchman, but that was his own last resort as well.

It was an awful feeling and an awful set-up, the whole thing really, and all Arthur wished and hoped for was to find someone who wouldn't judge him over his condition. It wasn't like he could help it at all. He was who he was and why couldn't people just accept that?

Before the Briton could get anymore deeper into his thoughts of self-pity, the American's voice snapped him back to the real world.

"Your cheeks are red, or cheek I should say, like you're blushing. Did I say something I shouldn't have?"

"What?" Arthur didn't understand at first, but once the words were sorted out in his mind he shook his head quickly. "I am not blushing." He declined the fact that he was despite how obvious it probably was.

Alfred just made a face toward Arthur, shifting the much-heavier-than-before dumbbell to his other hand to give the current one he held it in a little break. "Since we're on the topic of relationships still, what about you? Have you any lovers or anything?"

"With the way I look?" Arthur scoffed, "I've never been in one before, unless Francis counts." When the Briton received a confused look at the name, he expanded on who it was, "The aerial silk acrobat, a fellow blond only with a beard." When he got a nod in understanding, he continued on with his story. "Anyway, I don't think he counts too much. He's sort of like an acquaintance with benefits…" He stretched out then, straightening out his back and giving his bones a good stretch before he settled back, feet still on the first rung of the stool.

"To put it into better words, he's there at my most pathetic times—when I'm feeling worse than usual about myself and life. Thankfully though that doesn't happen at all too often."

Alfred wore a frown on his face, but as he was about to say something, he felt the weight grow above his head, and so he reached up with his other hand and gripped the dumbbell with both. When he looked back down at Arthur, he was calculating in his head the weight.

"About one thousand pounds already… not bad, Mr. Strongman, not bad at all, but I'm sure you can do better, yes?"

"Of course I can," The American wore a childish smile on his face, replacing that previous frown. However, he did bring back the previous conversation.

"You know, Arthur, you're a lot more attractive than you give yourself credit for. Scales or not, you're a really good looking man. People are downright stupid for not taking the time to see past your imperfections." He shook his head.

"And you, boy, are quite optimistic. Even Francis, the one who does actually pay me any attention, tries to avoid my affected skin at all costs. He won't touch it, nor really look at it much either unless his nose is turned with slight disgust." He'd taken notice of how the Frenchman acted around him, and especially with how he would touch Arthur. Never once did he lay a hand on the scaled skin on purpose, and if he did by chance, he would draw back quickly as if he were just burned. It hurt to know, and it hurt to see, but Arthur could also be quite understandable on why the other did as he did.

"Now that's not really nice at all. Who cares if you got a little scaly skin on ya, not like it's contagious or something, right? I'm real sorry, Arthur. In a way I know how you feel, only… opposite of course…" The American lad shrugged his shoulders, and then got an idea in his head.

"If I put this down will the weight remain the same as it is now?"

Arthur nodded his head, "Yes, and when you pick it back up again it'll resume climbing. The joys of charms." He chuckled softly, he accent giving it a nice tone as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Need a break?"

Alfred nodded as he moved the heavy weight down in front of him, and then dropped it onto the ground carefully, avoiding his feet, before rubbing at his arms. "They're tired from holding that thing up for however long…" He stretched out his sore arms, getting the blood pumping back into them.

The American made a face, scrunching up his features as he thought about his next words, and actions, carefully. "I don't care how many times you tell me it's not true, or that you don't believe me, but I mean it when I compliment you. You're a good looking man, scales or not, you really are." He continued on speaking, regardless of the red cheeks the recipient of the compliments was getting. "I touched your scales; I don't find anything freaky, or gross or unappealing about them. They help make you, you."

He took a step over the dumbbell, standing in front of Arthur for a moment. It was only when the man sitting finally looked up at him, green meeting passionate blue, that the American leaned down. He cupped the man's cheeks with both of his hands, fingers warm to the touch, "Being ashamed of who you are isn't right—embrace it. I may hate how strong I am because I'm constantly in fear of breaking or ruining everything or everyone I touch, but I'm proud of who I am regardless of it." Alfred, with a small smile gracing his perfect features, leaned the rest of the way down and brought his lips into contact with the affected skin on Arthur's cheek.

"Unlike Francis I'm ok with touching your skin, even where those scales are." Alfred pulled his head away some after the gentle kiss, that smile of his even wider than before.

When he looked at Arthur again though, his cheeks were so red that he reminded Al of a tomato, or a cherry—or hell, even the colors on the main tent they were in.

"You never cease to flatter me, Alfred." The Snakeman cleared his throat, trying to regain control over his flushing face and overall composure. By him kissing the imperfections it did help convince Arthur that the American was being quite serious, but he still wasn't fully convinced just yet. As flattering and sweet as it may be, Arthur still didn't believe the man.

Arthur raised his head, watching as Alfred moved away and picked the dumbbell back up and held it high above his head. "One thousand pounds?"

Arthur nodded, "Give or take."

"All right then. Let's finish up and see just how strong I am." Alfred had that same silly grin on his face, though a hint of pride showed through it.

Arthur saw that hint of pride, but he didn't have the heart to tell the man that he hadn't won just yet.

O~O~O

A good hour and a half passed, the time used up having been spent talking, discussing, arguing, laughing, joking, playing around, and overall, bonding.

But when that hour and a half was finally up, Alfred's muscular arms straining to keep the weight steady over his head, he finally had to throw the dumbbell down onto the floor and away from both himself and Arthur.

"Gosh, that thing must weigh ten thousand pounds by now!" Alfred joked, looking at the dumbbell accusingly for a moment before turning his tired eyes to Arthur for a proper calculation.

"I beg to differ on it weighing _that_ much." The Briton shook his head, thinking on just how much the damned thing should weigh by then. How much time had passed? Two or so hours, probably less? That times the five minutes it gained however many pounds would equal… "Anywhere from three thousand six hundred pounds to four thousand."

Thinking the amount didn't seem so much, but saying it out loud made his eyes widen a little. "You truly are a genuine strongman, Alfred. Good God. No strongman I've known, or met, or saw could lift that unless a charm was on him."

"That much?" The American couldn't help the large grin on his face as he put his hands on his hips in a proud manner. That smile quickly turned smug as the compliment went straight to his head. "I bet I got a good chance of getting in here at the circus, huh?"

"I can only assure you so much, but yes, Alfred, your chances are splendid. I'll have a nice chat with Blair tomorrow about you and see if I can help persuade him. He'll have to properly meet you of course, and see this weight you can lift with his own eyes, but aside from that? I might as well call you a fellow carnie now." Arthur was wearing a smile of his own as he watched the American's eyes fill with joy.

O~O~O

The rest of that night was spent eating dinner at the dinner hall, chatting a little more in the Snakeman's tent, and then finally Alfred going to his own tent to sleep before he passed out on Arthur's floor.

The next morning and proceeding day were the same as they always were—breakfast, the opening of the carnival, Arthur sitting in his cage for a few hours and reading here and there, show number one, more sitting, and then show number two. Once that second show was done and over with though, Arthur went searching for Blair to confront him about the newest addition that was eager to join their numbers.

Lucky for him the ringmaster was still in the big tent even after the stands emptied and the acts were off to change and get some dinner.

Arthur was a touch nervous, but he wore a bold expression on his face as he approached the Scotsman. He cleared his throat and waited to get his attention before speaking, "I've a proposition for you."

"Do you now? Enlighten me, Bessie."

The Snakeman ignored that crude nickname and continued on for the sake of Alfred. "I've caught wind of a… strongman. One who's more than willing to join our ranks."

Blair's eyebrows raised slightly, "A strongman?" He couldn't help but scoff, "We've had our share of those, all being hoaxes."

"Close to four thousand pounds he can lift. I assure you, he's genuine. I saw with my own eyes."

"I'm skeptical."

"I can prove it."

"Do it, and then we can talk about this. In the meantime I've got work to take of before the night ends."

"Prove it when?" Arthur watched as the ringmaster turned to leave, and then hesitated at his question.

Blair chewed on his lower lip, thinking that question over for a moment. "Tonight. Prove it to me tonight if you're dead serious on this man being real. If he is, then I can say that you just made me proud, but if you're trying to pass off a fraud, then you've only shamed me. I'll meet you back here in two hours, Arthur."

With that said, the Scotsman continued on his way and left Arthur standing there, heart pounding in his chest and words ringing in his ears.

He was dumbstruck to hear that he would have 'done his brother proud' if the man was the real deal… meaning that tonight when he showed the strongman to Blair he would be proud of him for once.

For once in his life.

O~O~O

"So how am I going to prove to him that I'm the real deal?" Alfred asked later in the evening as he lounged across the Snakeman's cot.

Arthur was perched on the edge beside the man lying down, a thoughtful look on his face. "Well the dumbbell is still in the main tent, but I'm sure Kiku took the charm off, or it wore off, by now… I could always ask him to charm it again only speed up the time it takes to gain weight, so we're not waiting for two hours." He turned his head, casting his green eyes down toward the handsome American.

"Then ask him?"

"I suppose I shall." The Briton let out a soft sigh, standing up and putting a hand on his hip as he turned to look back at Alfred. "In an hour meet me in the main tent, alright?"

When he got a nod of understanding from the younger male, he left without another word said.

He was eager and a little nervous for showing off Alfred's skill to Blair, and for two reasons mainly. One being that if his brother accepted the American they'd have a new member in their troupe of carnies, one that seemed to be very interested in Arthur, and two being that he'd be making the Scotsman proud for helping the circus gain more popularity.

It was hard to make Blair proud, and Arthur was finally going to hear those blasted words.

He left the tent with a smile, bidding Alfred a farewell until they were to meet in the tent soon.

O~O~O

Blair stood, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he let out a huff of air. "So you'll be lifting this?" His fierce eyes fell on the American, who wore a sheepish grin. When he got a nod, he continued, his eyes landing on Arthur instead, "And it's charmed?"

"Every four minutes it gains five hundred pounds. We should only be here for about half an hour." The Snakeman explained, his own eyes, though much softer than Blair's, turned from his brother to Alfred. "Are you ready? It's starting off at five hundred pounds now."

Alfred let out a sigh, bending over and gripping the dumbbell tight with both hands. He was nervous as all hell, and it didn't help that the ringmaster was right in front of him and watching just like Arthur was doing. He didn't care so much about Arthur watching him, but Blair… he had to really prove to this man that he was who he was—that he was as strong as the Scotsman was told.

With a huff, Alfred lifted the weight up off the ground, carefully bringing it up above his head where he held it with a firm grip and good stance. It was a good amount of heavy already, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.

As the minutes passed, each portion of four minutes seeming to take too long until the weight grew above his head, Alfred realized just how awkward this time really was. Blair was watching him; fierce, piercing, vibrant eyes on him at all times as the American stood there on display. His arms were getting tired from remaining up for so long, but he couldn't be taking a break now—he was sure they would be done soon.

The weight was beginning to get to be too much for him about twenty or so minutes in, and after waiting out the rest of the current four minute session he was in, he turned and dropped the weight to the floor with a grunt, immediately rubbing his arms to try and restore the feeling and blood to them.

"Three thousand five hundred, and without breaks may I add. Good job, Alfred," Arthur looked to the American, reaching out and patting him carefully on the arm with a smile on his face. He quickly drew his hand away however, turning his head toward Blair.

"Believe me now?"

The Scotsman's once skeptical stare was now a curious and interested one as his eyes dashed over the features of the American, examining him. After a moment of contemplation, he turned from the taller man and let his eyes fall on his sibling. He wet his lips, turning away from the both of them as he walked over to the dropped dumbbell.

"I believe that you're a liar, that's for damn sure." He knelt down and examined the dumbbell for a moment, "No one can lift that much without a trick up their sleeve. I bet this barely weighs a thing and that American there is just a good actor." He put both of his hands on the bar of the weight, standing back up some, and then tried to lift it himself to prove his point.

He was surprised to know that this thing actually weighed a considerable amount. His cheeks flushed from embarrassment as he realized that his brother had been serious, that his brother, for once, had actually done something right.

He stopped trying to lift it before he threw out his back, and so released the dumbbell and stood up all the way. He turned immediately to Arthur, but then shifted his gaze to Alfred instead. He held out a hand for him to take, making a face of distaste as he did so. Once Alfred accepted the offered hand, the Scotsman gave it a good, firm shake. "Welcome to the circus, Mr. Strongman. I trust Arthur here will show you the ropes and let you know how I run things. In the meantime you'll be doing training, and next town we're in you'll make your debut." He released his hand and turned away then, looking at Arthur for a moment before he made his way to exiting the tent altogether. He still felt like a fool for how silly he'd made himself look, but what was there to do about it? He figured that Arthur would have lied, but obviously not. That stupid dumbbell weighed far more than Blair would have expected.

The moment he was gone, the largest grin spread on Alfred's face, and Arthur couldn't help the smile of his own that flashed across his features.

Now here came the real test—if Alfred was genuine on all his flattering words and phrases.

If he had been lying, just to get his way and get into the circus, then his silly little charade would be ending soon, but if he was serious…

Arthur supposed he would find out sooner or later if this man really did mean all the sweet things he said to him.

O~O~O

Two days passed since the day Alfred was accepted into the circus as one of them, a fellow carnie and a new act. He spent his time training—lifting weights, testing out new things to lift, pushing his limits a little, and mingling with the other shows and acts. Since this was his new home, he had to get to know the other people at least a little bit better.

One evening, after the shows were done and the carnival was closed for the night, Alfred left his tent and made his way toward Arthur's. Their time together had been cut short after he was officially added to the troupe, and so he wanted to make up for some lost time.

The only regret that Alfred was having was that it was storming; and hard, too. The rain was coming down in sheets, the drops splashing down on the poor American as he practically ran from his tent down the way a bit and to Arthur's.

He pushed the flap back some and went on in without invitation, but as he entered, he covered his eyes and let himself be known. "Hey, sorry for barging in! You decent?"

"Alfred!" Was all that the American heard from the Englishman's mouth, and he couldn't help but chuckle.

"I take it you're not decent?"

"I've no pants on!"

"My eyes are covered! I'm not looking I swear!"

"I don't care! Get out."

"But it's raining!" The American whined, "I'll turn around, close my eyes, and keep them covered, okay?"

He heard a disgruntled noise leave Arthur's mouth, but it was followed by a simple fine and then a warning. "No peeking, Alfred."

Alfred shuffled some, turning around and facing the tents entrance as he closed his eyes and covered them just like he said he would do. "No peeking, promise." He nodded his head, and then waited as he heard the rustle of clothing. He couldn't help himself though, and he opened his eyes and swiveled his neck around quietly, catching a glimpse of the other's rear-end before he quickly turned his head back away.

He allowed a subtle smirk to cross his face, satisfied, but soon he was brought down by Arthur's accusing voice.

"You peeked, didn't you?"

"Course not!" The hint of smirk was obvious in his voice.

"Liar. I told you no peeking."

Alfred heard some rustling, and next thing he knew he had a pillow hitting the back of his head. He turned around with a chuckle, looking at Arthur before he bent over and picked up the item thrown. "We have the same parts, Arthur, what's the big deal?"

The Briton was pulling on his shirt, and once it was on, he turned to face the other man. He was scowling, "That gives you no right to look at me while I dress. I should have kicked you out into the rain…" He shook his head and sighed. That was honestly the best explanation that he could give? Alfred just had to admit that he was caught in the act and that was that—he was only trying to justify himself.

"Sorry, Artie, ya just got a nice ass. I couldn't help myself." Alfred shrugged and stepped further into the tent, helping himself and taking a seat on the cot as he placed the pillow he still held down on the bedding. He smiled up at the Briton, who just so happened to be giving him another nasty look.

"Enough with the comments."

"What, ya still think I'm lying to you?"

"You're already apart of The Kirkland Family Circus. You don't need to kiss up to me or anyone else anymore." Arthur took a seat himself on the cot.

"You think I was kissing up to you folks?" Alfred gave him a curious look, "I'm dead serious every time I compliment you." He made a face, and then shook his head, "Was my kiss to your cheek not enough to prove?"

Arthur had nothing to say to the other male. He simply stared at him, a thoughtful kind of expression adorning his features. After a few moments of thinking, he nodded his head. "No, it wasn't."

"What, do ya need another kiss to further help prove me true?"

"N-no," Arthur made a face, his cheeks flushing a vibrant red from the suggestion. "That won't be necessary."

"Ya sure?" Alfred teased further, but dropped the subject as he settled his hands in his lap. He let out a sigh, "What do you want to do?"

"Positive, and that would be up to you, Alfred." The Snakeman shifted on the cot, crawling behind where the American sat and laid down. He clasped his hands together on his stomach and looked up toward the roof of the tent, listening to the rain as it splattered down onto the thick fabric above.

Alfred furrowed his brows, "But, I don't know. I don't have any ideas."

"No ideas in that head of yours? Perhaps you should think harder then." Arthur closed his eyes, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he allowed the rain to lull him to an almost sleep. He caught himself though and opened his eyes back up.

Alfred was looking at him, an eyebrow raised. "Don't be fallin' asleep on me."

"I am not falling asleep." The Englishman let out a sigh, his captivating eyes staring into the other's endless blue. He chewed on his lip as a thousand different things popped into his mind—all things that he'd be better off not stating.

"Hm… I still can't think of anything."

"Honestly, nothing at all?"

"Well…" The American started, but trailed off before the thought could even start.

"What?"

"It's nothing."

"Obviously it's not. What is it, Alfred?"

"Rylee told me once that the circus used to do an 'after dark' show, one that was for adults only…" The strongman swallowed and turned his eyes to Arthur, watching as his cheeks darkened into a deep maroon. "Kind of like a private showing kind of deal, right? That's what I got out of it at least."

"W-what about that?"

"Is it true?"

"Well, that was some time ago, but… y-yes, it's true." Arthur turned his eyes away, scrunching up his facial features in disapproval. "Why would Rylee tell you such a thing?"

Alfred shrugged, "I don't know. We were talking the other night and… it just slipped out."

The Briton made a noise, further showing how much he was displeased with this revelation that his sister had caused. "Like I stated, that was some time ago."

"Do you still do private shows for… certain people?"

"W-what?!" Arthur sat up immediately, his hands tightening on the sheets of the cot beside him as his eyes sent a look of pure astonishment the American's way. "You're surely bonkers, Alfred. I've not done such things in… well, years? Months? Something along that sort."

"So if I asked you for a private show, right now, you'd turn me down?"

"Of course I wouldn't!" Arthur answered quickly, letting his mouth do all the work while his brain took a break. It was only after a moment of silence and reddening cheeks that the Briton realized what he had said exactly.

He _wouldn't_ turn him down if he asked.

_Wouldn't._

"I-I… uhm… said that wrong… I think." Arthur turned his head away in shame, furrowing his brows as one hand snaked around the back of his head to scratch in a nervous manner. Why was he being so damn silly? And nervous? This wasn't like him at all! It was only Alfred after all—the one who barged into his life one day, kept him company when he needed it, made him laugh and smile, and all the while he remained a flattering stranger.

A flattering stranger who knew just what to say, when to say it, and how to make the Snakeman feel like a million bucks.

Arthur turned his eyes partly toward Alfred, chewing on his lip to further express his edginess. "You're still a stranger to me, Alfred, and even though I know you better than I did on day one I still don't know you _that_ well. You… you know exactly what to say to me, exactly what to say to make me feel better than I ever have before, and in all honesty, I'm a little bit… well, skeptical. Did you honestly think that one little kiss was going to win me over? I'm not that easy, Mr. Strongman."

Alfred thought the words over in his head, letting them really sink in as he tried to find a solution at the same time.

He could understand how he could be coming off as… well, someone kind of like a con artist, but he was a genuinely sweet guy! He really was, only most people he met liked to take advantage of that.

That was how he got on the run in the first place. Some jerks took advantage of him. He panicked. He ran. Next thing he knew he was royally screwed.

He was always being nice to the people he met, and most of the time karma was on his side of things… unless of course she decided to be one cruel bitch and make the American's already tough life just that much harder.

The strongman turned his eyes down to Arthur's for a moment, a serious look adorning his features as he sat up a little more. He shifted where he sat, better facing Arthur as he raised his hands. He placed them on either side of the Briton's face, caressing his cheeks and bringing his fingers around to rest upon his hair.

He leaned in, his eyes closing, as he placed his lips gently and sweetly against the other man's. Alfred remained like that for a moment, working his lips in a loving manner against the Englishman's own as his hands moved from his cheeks and into the mess of hair instead.

After a short moment, the strongman pulled back and away, their lips parting but his hands remained where they were.

For a moment they merely sat there, green mixing with blue as they gazed at one another.

Arthur was shocked for a brief moment, the kiss having stunned him, while Alfred was determined.

Neither knew what to say though, and neither felt like breaking the soft silence of the tent either—they were content once the initial shock was gone.

Until Alfred spoke up.

"When I tell you how attractive you are, how beautiful and handsome you are, I mean it. Every single bit and piece of it, whenever I tell you, is true. Why would I lie? What reason do I have to lie to you? I bothered you on day one because I found this circus on accident. You captivated me on stage, and so did Elizabeth, and so I sought you out just to talk to you. It just went from there, and I realized just how much I… just how much I ended up enjoying your company and… liking you." Alfred took a breath of air, looking away, "I don't have much in my life, Arthur, you know that, and I'm grateful for everything I have, for everyone I meet."

He may have been holding a secret he wasn't at all too proud for, but what he was being chased for was to help keep himself alive. To help himself survive on the streets.

Now he would be all right.

"Such compliments I'm not used too, Alfred." Arthur let out a soft sigh, keeping his gaze strong and on the man who still held his head with gentle hands. "You're a mysterious man, and very peculiar as well, but…" With another sigh and a slow shake of the head, Arthur reached his own hands up and grabbed onto Alfred's, pulling them away and holding them tightly in his own.

The Briton decided to not say anything more. Actions did in fact speak louder than words, and if Alfred was so determined to prove to him just how much he meant his words and how much he liked him, then so be it. Arthur wouldn't stand in his way.

What could it hurt anyway? Aside from himself and his silly heart that loved to get too attached, nothing else would be in harm's way.

After a few moments of silence, Alfred took the open opportunity and leaned in close a second time, bringing their lips together as he closed his eyes just like before. He continued to hold the Snakeman's hands in his own, giving them a gentle squeeze as he deepened the embrace between both of their lips.

This kiss had something more to it, something more pleasurable than just a quick peck or the silly kisses that Arthur would share with the Frenchman—this kiss he could actually feel, taste, enjoy the love that he was receiving from it. It was different, and strange, but it felt nice and damned would he be to deny something like this.

The Briton didn't know when it happened, but the next time he opened his eyes he found himself on his back, sinking into the hardness of the cot as he opened his eyes to gaze at the man above him.

The look he was receiving was one that made Arthur's heart melt right in his chest. He wasn't being stared at like some animal on display, or some freak in a cage, or like some diseased monster—he was being gazed at with kind, loving, sweet, nonjudgmental eyes that put the sky to shame with just how blue and beautiful they were.

He couldn't move his gaze away, and it seemed like ages had passed before Alfred finally broke the contact between them, his hands working over each button of the Englishman's shirt carefully and easily. One by one he slipped the little metal piece through the hole, slowly revealing the creamy, pale skin that was hiding below.

Arthur became a bit nervous then, not knowing how Alfred would react to the sight of even more scales littering his body in more places than just his face, neck, or arm. Even as he watched with nervous eyes as the American finished off the buttons and pulled the fabric back slowly, he was surprised when those strong hands ran their fingers gently over the exposed skin—scales and all.

Francis would never have done that. That man avoided any contact with the green specs, and if he did happen to touch a patch he would recoil. It was awful, but this man actually touched them on purpose. He allowed his fingers to run over the smooth skin, exploring and feeling what muscles lay beneath, and even as the tips brushed up against the imperfections, he took that opportunity to run over the scales and do the same to them as the normal skin.

Alfred didn't care. Like he had stated before, the scales helped make Arthur who he was, and he was accepting to them.

Each touch, each brush and stroke made by his strong, firm hands and fingers made the Briton writhe under his weight. He wasn't used to such affection, least not as tender and loving as this was.

Those hands stopped after a few long moments, instead heading south to the top of the man's pants where they hesitated.

When Arthur looked up, Alfred looked as if he were having second thoughts on this. Arthur couldn't help his sudden frown. "We don't have to continue."

"It's not that; just… remember what I told you the other day?" When all he got was a raised eyebrow, Alfred continued, "I'm new to this."

It clicked after a moment in the Briton's head, "Oh, y-yes… I do recall you saying something like that."

"I'm not saying I don't want to do this, just… bear with me, ok? And…"

"I'll help you, Alfred, don't fret," He leaned up and placed a soft kiss on his forehead, but when he pulled away, he still wore a frown. "Are you sure you want your first time to be with someone like me? I—"

"I wouldn't want it any other way, Arthur." The American closed the distance between them, bringing their lips together to prevent the other from talking any further. He wanted this, despite all the reasons why he probably shouldn't.

He didn't care.

That was all the reason Arthur needed, and so he complied too the kiss that was forced upon him as he wound his arms around the strongman's neck. He allowed his hands to make their way toward those dirty blond locks, fingers tangling around the hairs as he got a good grip and pulled the man closer to him.

Kiss after kiss, hands against skin, fingers wound around strands of hair—it was all so erotic and loving at the same time that Arthur almost forgot to throw in a warning.

He broke one of the kisses they were sharing, giving the blond above him a stern look, "Before we go on, Alfred…"

"Yes?"

"Do be careful… remember the conversation we had? When I asked you if you ever… broke someone during this?" When the American nodded, Arthur went on, "Don't break me. If you feel yourself losing, hm… control I should say, grip onto anything save for me." He reached for one of his hands, guiding it to the bars of the cot just behind his head, "These, or the sheets, okay?"

"Okay," Alfred nodded a second time, keeping his hand where Arthur placed it for a moment longer before moving it down beside the other's head. "I won't break you, I promise. You've my word, Arthur." He planted a sweet kiss on the Briton's cheek, earning a small smile before he shifted his weight a little bit.

Arthur's hands found their way up to the other's torso, firstly pulling the suspenders he wore down over his shoulders and his arms so they'd be out of the way as his fingers worked over each button skillfully. When he got down to the last button, undoing it with ease, he sat up on his elbows and pushed on Alfred's chest to get him up and off of him. When the other did as he wanted, he reversed their positions—Alfred now lying on his back as Arthur straddled his hips. He was sure to remove the button-up shirt before the man laid down, and since the skin below him was free from any fabric, he took the chance to feel just how strong the new strongman was.

He allowed his hands to work over the warm, tan flesh laid out before him. As his finger trailed over each portion of his torso, he could feel those tight, well-worked muscles just below the stretched, sun-kissed skin. One finger traced slow circles on the smooth chest until he grew bored and settled for leaning down, planting gentle kiss after kiss on the perfect flesh. Here and there he would nip at the warmth, gaining a reaction he rather enjoyed from the American he was taunting.

It was obvious by his reactions that he was new to this, and Arthur couldn't help but find that to be a slight turn-on.

With a smile, the Englishman brought their lips together, nipping at them and earning the reaction that he was expecting—surprise and with an open mouth. He took the chance and slid his tongue over into the other's hot cavern, tangling their tongues together in the heated embrace.

He never expected to see himself here, now, doing this with Alfred.

It seemed so sudden, so strange, but somehow right at the same time.

It was something that Arthur just could not explain.

The American returned the kiss, slowly at first but more confident the more he got the hang of it. He was completely new to all of this, so taking it slow was his best bet.

When he first felt the other man's tongue snaking its way over into his mouth, Alfred was alarmed briefly until he realized what was going on. It was a kiss, just a simple kiss, and he learned after a moment just how much he enjoyed this specific kiss.

Arthur broke the embrace and sat up slowly, his hands on Alfred's chest as he gazed down at him briefly. He shed his button-up shirt, throwing it to the side with ease where it fluttered for a moment before landing with a whoosh of air on the hard floor. When Arthur turned his attention back to the American, he allowed his hands to run over the smooth skin, stopping only when they reached the fabric of the man's trousers.

He undid the buttons slowly, one by one until the other's undergarment was clearly visible—as was his growing problem. Arthur's cheeks turned a soft pink as he moved down some, straddling Alfred's legs instead of his hips as he leaned his head down. He placed a kiss just below his navel, allowing his soft lips to move further down slowly and thoughtfully. As his mouth moved down, his hands worked at pulling the fabric down along with his movements.

He stopped only briefly to instruct Alfred to lift his hips up, and when he did, he pulled both the trousers and the undergarments down over them.

Both of their faces were red, Arthur's from seeing the American and all his glory, and Alfred's for being exposed.

The Briton leaned his head back down, resuming the kisses where he left off until finally he pulled away completely and stood to his feet. Alfred was giving him a confused, concerned look, but his silent question was answered when he saw the Snakeman undoing the buttons of his trousers.

The American got up to his feet then as well, kicking off his shoes and removing the remaining garments that were practically off anyway. When he turned his head to look at Arthur, he noticed how his back was to him and his hands were fumbling with his buttons.

He walked up behind him, completely in the nude, and slipped his arms around the Snakeman's sides. He pressed their bodies together as his hands pushed Arthur's away and his own began to work at each button instead.

All the while his hands were busy and Arthur was surprised from the sudden contact, Alfred brought his lips to the man's neck and placed soft kiss after soft kiss upon the imperfect skin. The contact gained pleasurable sounds from the Englishman, and he seemed to enjoy it so much that he even tipped his head to the side to show off more of his skin and allow the American better access.

Now this was definitely something that Francis would never do.

The way Alfred's arms were wrapped around him, strong and reassuring, loving yet dominant and tender all at once.

How was it that a complete stranger he met at the beginning of the week could make him feel so good, could make him feel so loved, yet the man who he had known for years and years made him feel desperate and dirty and unwanted?

He couldn't comprehend how that made any sort of sense, but at that moment he decided that it was better if he just dropped it and enjoyed this.

Arthur moved his hands away from the waistband of his pants altogether, allowing the American to take over completely. His own hands were beginning to shake, and he realized why—he was actually, genuinely, nervous. With the Frenchman this was all just to relieve stress or just to feel good overall, but this… could this be classified as making love?

Did he love Alfred? Or was he just soaking up the attention and the opportunity like some sort of whore?

The thought sent a pang through his chest, and he let out a shuddered sigh.

He thought he told himself to stop thinking about this? Not to continue and make himself feel like shit.

Alfred was oblivious to the thoughts that were currently filling Arthur's brain. He let his hands continue with the buttons until finally they were free and he was slipping them down and off.

It was only when the American finally looked up, his eyes catching a glimpse at Arthur's face, that he noticed something was wrong.

He threw the man's pants to the side and walked to his front, facing him and taking his hands in his own, a look of concern gracing his perfect features, "Arthur?"

"I can't do this."

"Can't do what?"

"This," The Briton made a hand gesture to them and the cot, implying the act they were about to perform.

Alfred frowned, "Why can't you?"

Arthur turned his head down, closing his eyes for a moment. He could feel himself having the urge to cry, the urge to let at least one tear slip, but he knew he couldn't allow that.

"Arthur, Arthur hey… look at me," The American's strong hands were on his cheeks, lifting his head up to eye level. He looked genuinely concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Isn't this wrong? What we're about to do? We don't love each other. We don't even know each other. I… I don't want to be like some whore who only does this when I'm desperate. Francis is worse enough, but…"

"Whoa, whoa, Arthur, calm down. Listen to me." He pulled the Englishman closer to him, his arms wrapping around him in a comforting manner. "I'm not doing this because I'm desperate, I'm doing this with you because I made the choice to do it with you," He kissed his forehead lightly. "I'm a virgin. I barely know what I'm doing. I'm new to this whole love thing because I've been scared. You're trusting me though, and I'm trusting you. Love may not be prominent right now, but God is it there, Arthur."

He took a step back, looking down at the Briton in his arms with a sweet smile. "I know you're not desperate right now. You're taking your sweet time, you're being understanding with me, and you're not in any damn hurry to get somewhere with this." He leaned his head down and brought their lips together tenderly. When he pulled away, he was smiling again at Arthur.

That perfect smile helped put the Briton at ease a little better. His words helped considerably as well, but that smile and sweet face were all he honestly needed.

"I feel silly."

"Why do you feel silly?" Alfred couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"Overthinking things. Have I killed the mood?"

"Course you haven't," With a shake of the head, Alfred dropped his arms from around the Englishman and grabbed hold of the undergarments he still wore, sliding them down until they were around his ankles. When he stood back up, he scooped the now nude Englishman up into his arms, Arthur kicking off the unneeded garment, and laid him down on the cot.

He brought their lips together for a moment, and when he pulled away, he was wearing his usual, goofy grin. "I'd say this act we're about perform together would best be called love-making, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Snakeman?" He pushed their lips back together, only for a sweet embrace until he pulled back and straddled the man's lower regions.

Arthur's cheeks flushed a deep red, but he was smiling as he nodded his head, "Agree with you I do, Mr. Strongman." He wrapped his arms around the man's neck, pulling him down for another, longer lasting, kiss.

He really had been just overthinking things like usual.

With a gentle smile the American shifted his position, but when a thought came to mind, he hesitated in his movements. He wasn't so sure what to do. He knew the idea of how to do this with a man, but everything else was, well, a blank.

He chewed on his lower lip for a moment, sitting up on his knees as Arthur stared up at him. He wore a look of confusion as he studied the American's features, until it clicked in his mind. He was supposed to help him through this and so far he was failing.

"Let's switch positions, Alfred, it'll be easier that way and—"

"No, I wanna top."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Alfred nodded his head, giving the Snakeman a determined stare, "I can handle this. It's not like its science or something. What do I do first?" He seemed eager, or excited, yet nervous all at the same time.

Arthur couldn't help but chuckle as he shook his head, exhaling quietly. It amused him a great deal to see how this man was determined to top regardless of how clueless he was. Not that he was complaining since bottoming was his sexual preference and all, just the sheer idea was entertaining.

"Prep. I may be flexible but I can assure you not in _that_ way. I don't exactly want to be limping come morning." With a slight smile, the Englishman took hold of one of the other man's hands, placing one, two, three fingers into his mouth. He sucked on each one thoughtfully, making sure to properly coat each one.

When his eyes fluttered up, catching sight of the man still straddling him, he saw the uneasiness in his eyes and the blush dusted across his cheeks. It was all around a cute image, but Arthur had to turn his gaze away as he removed the fingers from his mouth once he was sure they were coated well enough.

"I'm sure you know where to place those and what to do with them, yes?"

Alfred nodded slowly, moving himself in between the Englishman's legs and lifting his limbs up a little. He moved the first wet finger to his entrance, plunging it in, and then immediately added the second followed by the third. He wasted no time with that, nor did he when it came to the actual prepping.

He moved his fingers in a scissoring motion, stretching and getting Arthur's tight entrance ready for what was to come. He knew that was what you did, but he honestly had no sort of technique when it came to this particular part. Was he supposed too? He wasn't sure, but he didn't question it at all.

As he continued, he glanced down at himself, noticing just how hard his member had become. The American chewed on his lower lip and moved his eyes to the writhing man below him, removing his fingers as he did so.

"That's good, right?"

Arthur nodded his head, and then motioned for him to come back on top of him.

"I pray you know what to do from here, yes?" Arthur placed his arms around the man's neck, drawing him in a bit closer. He looked up into Alfred's eyes, seeing just how scared he must have been.

It was his first time, and he knew that one of the man's fears was hurting his partner—or anyone for that matter.

"Remember, Alfred, grab the bars," The Briton removed one of his arms from the man's neck and took one of his hands into his own, gently placing soft kisses on each of the American's fingertips. "I trust you not to harm me." He leaned up and gave the man a quick, reassuring peck to the lips. "You'll do just fine."

All Alfred did was nod his head in understanding, about grabbing the bars instead of Arthur, and watched with tinted cheeks as the Englishman kissed each finger individually. When his hand was returned he moved it to the sheets to help hold himself up, and then positioned himself better over Arthur.

The tip of his member probed at the Briton's entrance, and he slowly, carefully pushed into him. He saw the discomfort on the Englishman's face, but he chewed his lip and continued to venture in further until he filled him up completely.

The feeling of the Englishman's walls tightening around his hardened member was an interesting one to say the least; stimulating almost. But that was merely him being a virgin that practically made every touch, every feeling, every sensation, make him want to hit his climax.

He waited a moment once he was fully inside, allowing the other male time to get used to his member, and then he began to buck his hips in a hesitant motion.

Alfred was hesitant for a lot of reasons why. One being that this was new. All of it. Everything. He never pictured himself doing this with someone, let alone a man really. He always pictured himself with a woman, but there was nothing wrong with a man either. He supposed he was ok with both sides of the playing field, but he never really thought about it before.

His sexual preference in gender never exactly crossed his mind.

He liked who he liked regardless.

His second reason was that, since this was all so new to him, he didn't know exactly _what _to do with himself. He knew where it went, how to move his hips, he knew vaguely of the prep at the beginning, but after that? It was blank. He held no techniques, and he was honestly surprised that Arthur even _allowed _him to top.

How can an inexperienced man be any sort of satisfying?

The American's third reason was, of course, his fear. Like he had stated previously, when he became emotional for whatever reason he pretty much would forget about his strength and not realize the fact that he'd just hurt someone or something that he cared about.

He knew that Arthur told him several times to grab the bars, but what if he forgot? Accidents were bound to happen, but that didn't mean that Alfred wouldn't try to prevent them.

He concentrated on what he was doing, focused on his movements, and overall was trying not to cause the man below him more discomfort than he already was. He supposed that his inexperience played a role in Arthur's discomposure, but he tried not to let that get to him. Pleasure was supposed to come soon, right?

Moving his hips in a more relaxed, confident way, Alfred gripped the bedding in his hands tightly. The friction itself was an amazing feeling, and he could feel his body already trying to get a high from it, but he had to compose himself.

Barely even started and his body was already about done. He knew that wasn't right.

For Arthur the pain was almost too much. He was regretting not being prepared and actually getting himself prepped more… correctly. It was as if someone were splitting him into two it was that much of a discomfort, but he gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and waited it out until finally, what felt like forever, the wave of pleasure washed over him.

He arched his back, his hands finding their way to the American's hair where he gripped tight and held on. It was only when that bundle of nerves was finally hit that Arthur really reacted, the amount of pleasure he got from it really showing through on his features.

The sounds leaving the Briton's mouth were only encouraging to Alfred as he continued to buck his hips as best, and smoothly, as he could. The reaction he got to one particular spot was one that the American decided to keep trying for. He hit it a few times, gaining the same reaction and noises as the first time.

The Strongman's fingers curled into the sheets, his grip like a vise as he fought the urge to cum so soon. Already his strength was beginning to go haywire, and he knew that the sheets alone wouldn't suffice. He shifted his grip onto the bars above, his warm fingers coiling around the cool metal as his body continued with its task at hand—pleasuring the Briton lying in the sheets below him.

All the while he moved, the pleasing sensation filling him to the brim, he kept in mind about how gentle he had to be. His thrusts may have been more on the rough side, but he had to keep in mind to take it easy, not to get overly excited, and to concentrate on his hands not touching Arthur as he reached his high. The metal bars within his grasp became subject to his strength however, and so they began to bend and snap underneath his fingers.

Arthur kept his eyes closed, his hands still tangled in the dirty blond locks of the American's hair as he arched his back further. He was very close to reaching his end, but he hung in there just a bit longer.

The only time he reopened his eyes was when he heard the grinding of the metal bars above his head. His almost mistook it for a sudden clap of thunder, since the storm was still brewing outside, but when he glanced up he saw the bars of his cot… _bending_.

His heart was already thumping loudly in his chest, but from seeing the bars he got even more of a rush and somewhat… turned on.

The Briton's hands tightened on the hair in his grasp, his hips moving in time with Alfred's as ecstasy washed over both of their bodies. He used his grip on the man's locks as a way to bring the male closer to him; pushing their lips together in the best embrace he could manage. It was sloppy and messy and saliva was everywhere, but neither of them cared at that moment.

It was all about the high from their orgasms, the feeling of skin against skin in heated pleasure, affection, love, tenderness, care—everything that, or so it seemed, the two of them had both been deprived of.

O~O~O

It was nice afterward to snuggle up in the strong arms of the man he'd just made love with.

It was something that Francis would never do with Arthur. With him it was more of a one-night-stand kind of deal, so waking up to him still beside him or even snuggling afterward? It wasn't something that happened often, or at all really.

The Snakeman felt lips upon his forehead suddenly, and so he tilted his head up to look at the smiling face of the man who held him close. He put on a smile himself as he watched the Strongman shift, pulling the blanket of the cot up and around them.

"Sorry I broke your cot…"

"Don't fret, love. It was better the bars than me, though a broken bone or two may be easier to explain to Blair versus the metal of the cot. He won't be too pleased with having to buy a new one, but that's quite all right." Arthur clicked his tongue, thinking a few things over in his head real fast. "In the meantime you'll just have to settle with sharing with me on your own cot since you caused the damage to mine." With a teasing huff, Arthur leaned up and brought their lips together, making it last for a short period until he pulled back.

"I can share I suppose, but only because I am at fault." Alfred chuckled and shook his head, settling on the side of the cot and under the blankets. It was difficult to be comfortable on such a small space with two people, but he supposed it was all right so long as they cuddled close.

As if Arthur could read his mind though, he snuggled even closer into his open arms and cuddled more into the blankets that enveloped their naked bodies. He leaned up, brushing his soft lips against the American's with a slight smile adorning his face. "We'll have to stay close, love."

Alfred's cheeks turned a soft pink, but he closed the distance between their lips, keeping the embrace going until finally he pulled back and settled more into the pillow and sheets. He intertwined their legs as Arthur settled better into the bedding as well, his arms wrapped loosely yet strongly around his figure.

It was nice for the both of them to have something like this—someone to hold close and know that they'd never be judged in their eyes.

For Arthur it was reassuring to know, to see, that in the eyes of the American he would be perfect. He never once faltered when a hand graced the flawed skin, or flinched away when his lips brushed up against the coolness of the scales across his cheek or collarbone. In fact, Alfred embraced it. Whenever he came into contact with a patch he kept his hand there, or ran his fingertips along it, or allowed his lips to continue ravishing the affected skin.

For Alfred it was purely the fact that Arthur trusted him. He trusted him enough to allow him to have his first time with him, to hold him in his arms, to kiss him, to cherish him, to actually _have _someone.

They may not have known each for that damn long, but after this night Alfred knew that he was in love for the first time in his life.

With one last kiss to the forehead, the strongman moved to pull away and settle into the bedding, but stopped. With a tired smirk, he leaned in close to the other man's ear and whispered, "G'night."

That was when he settled back into the pillow, draping his arm across the Briton's side, the side with all the flaws and imperfections, and fell fast asleep.

Alfred was barely conscious to hear the good night in reply.


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning:** Circus, freak show, snakes, Snakeman [not serpent], bad grammar and butchering of a good book, drunks, drinking, not-so-awesome storytelling, skinning dipping, nudity,

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia nor any of its characters, nor do I own the passage taken from _The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_.

**Author's Notes:** So sorry that this chapter took ages for me to do. I've been super busy, mainly with my English 101 class, so… anyway! I have no idea when the next chapter will be coming around, but I promise that I will be working on it and it will be out eventually. [I don't enjoy making everyone wait. I hate waiting for updates myself, so I know how annoying it can be.] Some more interesting stuff will be going on in the next chapter too; this one is just too pretty much place the setting for now, hah. Enjoy~

The artwork that's used as the image for this story still belongs to me. You can find it on my DeviantART page.  
Also, do check out our ask blogs on Tumblr. Snakeman and Strongman are together [ ask-strongman-and-snakeman-usuk ]

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

The rides from town to town were always long, always drab, always consisted of reading and sitting and watching the land rolling past the carriage.

Past trips were like that anyhow.

This particular one was a different story.

It was far more fascinating and pleasurable than any of those previous.

The Snakeman was to share space with the new act, Alfred, along with the German brothers. That combination alone made the trip intriguing, but what really made it less drab was the American himself.

Every few minutes he was saying Arthur's name, or tapping his shoulder, or asking a question. It came to the point where Arthur finally snapped at him, but he saw the hurt in his eyes from the suddenness of it that the Snakeman had to apologize to him right away.

"I understand that this sort of thing is new to you, having company and all and traveling close with them, but good God. May I ask of you some silence for just five minutes? I've been reading the same line over and over…" The Briton let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. When he looked up again, he saw that same look of hurt in Alfred's deep blue orbs, and so the Snakeman let out another tired sigh. "I'm sorry for snapping. Traveling like this always makes me agitated."

"So we've all noticed," A fellow voice in the carriage cackled, a snicker on the man's pale face.

"Was I speaking with you, Gilbert?" Arthur retorted, a scowl crossing his own features.

"Doesn't matter if you were or not—I felt obligated to reply. It was an open conversation after all." With a shrug of his shoulders, the albino settled back where he sat and returned his attention to his brother who was busy driving the carriage. They resumed their own conversation, leaving Arthur to resume his with Alfred.

The American was frowning, "Just say it. I'm acting like a pestering little child. I get it. I can leave you alone if you just say so."

"I'm not asking you to leave me alone," Arthur reached over and took hold of one of the other man's strong hands. He held it tight and showed a soft smile. "All I ask is a little silence here and there. Reading is a past time of mine after all, and reading requires silence. Why don't you read too?"

Arthur let go of Alfred's hand and shifted himself, shuffling in his bag at his side for a moment before he pulled out a book. He held it out for the American to take, and once he did, he placed a hand gently on the younger man's knee. He gave it a good squeeze, "Reading is good for you anyway."

The Snakeman turned from the American and settled himself back into his previous position, book open on his lap and his eyes scanning the words on the page.

Alfred held the book in his hand, staring at the beaten cover of it for a moment before looking upward. His eyes first fell on Arthur, who was already absorbed into whatever story was happening on the open pages before him. He shifted his eyes to the other two in the carriage with them instead, but Ludwig was busy driving and concentrating and Gilbert was occupying himself with a much-needed nap.

With a sigh, Alfred flipped the book open to the first page, staring at the letters in bold at the top for a moment before he realized what they said: chapter one. He moved on down the page then, making a face as he tried to read the words over in his mind.

The only ones he picked up easily were 'the,' or 'was,' or any of those simple ones that easily could be sounded out. As for some of the other words that he encountered, such as 'countenance' or 'eminently' for a few examples, he wasn't so lucky. He sounded them out the best he could, but what on God's earth did they mean? It was beyond him.

The strongman settled for skipping them and simply continued past the confusing words, understanding the few words here and there that he actually did know. But, even as he turned to the next page, he was greeted by even more unknown words.

He concluded, after a few long minutes, that this book was either too smart for him or he was just that much illiterate. The thought made him frown, but he continued to try and read the chunks of text on the second page regardless.

The strongman didn't know how long he'd been sitting there trying to decipher the words, but it was only when Arthur spoke up that Alfred glanced up from the words on the page. A guilty kind of expression was adorning his perfect face.

"What page are you on?" An innocent question, but one with hidden meaning behind it.

The American looked down at the bottom left-hand corner of the page, "Two…"

"It's been ten or fifteen minutes since I first gave that to you. On average you should be at least on page eight, if not nine already."

"I'm a slow reader."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, "What's happened so far in those two pages?"

Alfred thought for a moment before he spoke up. He hadn't realized that he was walking straight into a trap. "There was some lawyer… and something about a devil? And something about brothers and friends, so I would assume that the lawyer and devil were… why are you laughing?"

Arthur quickly brought a hand up to his mouth, trying to still his soft chuckles. "I'm sorry. I'm not laughing." His words and voice hinted at a smile on his lips.

Alfred closed the book and placed it down, turning away and leaning his back against the side of the carriage. He crossed his arms and drew his lips into a thin line.

"Oh, Alfred, I really am sorry. Your explanation really was quite—"

"Just say it—I'm stupid. I can't even read good. I don't know what those few pages said. I can barely even read the word 'the.'" He shook his head. "I didn't go to school much when I was younger."

"_Well_. You can't read _well_." Arthur corrected, but when Alfred put his face in his hands the Snakeman let out a quiet sigh.

"I can't even talk right."

Arthur closed his book and placed it down, moving himself closer to the American. He pushed his hands away from his face as he replaced them with his own hands. His cool fingers cradled the other man's warm cheeks, turning his head to make him look at him. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to insult you, love. Honestly." He leaned up, placing a soft kiss to his forehead. "And you talk fine. Just need a few… tweaks here and there."

When The Briton drew away, he was smiling gently, "I can teach you how to read if you'd like."

"Would you?"

"Why of course, but only if you'll be serious about this. If you're merely wasting my time then I won't bother with teaching you anymore." The Englishman warned, giving the strongman a stern look before it melted away and showed a softer sort of smile in its place.

Alfred showed him a smile of his own, and then nodded his head slowly. "I'm willing to learn, so long as you're patient with me. I'm fond of distractions after all, but you already know that about me." He chuckled softly, and then shook his head free of that silly thought.

"I'm more patient than one may think, now pick up that book. I want you to read me a passage—the first paragraph. That was the one you were having difficulties with, right?"

Alfred picked the book up hesitantly, his fingers running over the cover thoughtfully before he finally flipped it open to the first page. "Do I have to read it out loud?"

"Yes. I want to hear how well you do on your own."

"You mean how _bad_ I do on my own?" Alfred made a face.

"Oh shush. I'm sure you'll do just fine."

With a shrug, the American settled himself comfortably with his legs crossed, book open on his lap, and opened his mouth as he began to read the passage.

"_Mister Ut-ter-son the law-yer was a man of rug-ged count-en-ants that was never lit-ed by a smile; cold, scay-n-tee and em-bare-assed in dis-course; back-word in sen-ti-ment; lean, long, dusty, drary, and yet sum-how love-a-bowl. At friend-lee meet-tings, and when the wine was to his taste, sum-thing em-in-ent-lee hue-man beak-on-ed from his eye; sum-thing in-deed wit-ch never found its way into his talk, but wit-ch spoke not only in these sigh-lent sim-bowls of the after-dinner face, but more often and loud-lee in the acts of his life. He was a-us-tear with himself; drank g-in when he was alone, to moat-a-fy a taste for vine-ages; and though he en-joy-ed the the-at-er, had not cross-ed the doors of one for twent-e years. But he had an ap-prove-ed tole-er-ance for others; sum-times won-der-ing, all-most with en-vee, at the high press-sure of spear-its in-volve-ed in their miss-deeds, and in any x-trem-it-e in-cline-ed to help ra-ther than to re-prove. "I in-cline to Cane's hear-say," he use-d to say qu-aint-lee. "I let my brother go to the devil in his own way." In this char-actor, it was free-qu-en-t-lee his for-tune to be the last rep-u-table a-qu-aint-en-s and the last good in-floo-en-s in the lives of down-go-ing men. And to such as these, so long as they came about his cham-burs, he never mark-ed a shay-dee of change in his de-mean-or." _

When he was finished reading, he looked up from the book and let his gaze fall upon Arthur. From the looks of it, he was trying to hold back a laugh or a snicker, but Alfred ignored it and wore a frown on his face as he waited to hear the verdict on his reading skills.

The Snakeman composed himself; clearing his throat and placing a hand near his mouth like previously done. He had to hold back any chuckles, for he couldn't upset this man any more than he already had. "You're not _ithat/i_ awful at reading aloud. You could be a lot worse."

"Worse than I already am?"

"You could not know how to read at all."

Alfred remained quiet, closing the book and placing it down and away from him.

Arthur picked it up instead, flipping back open to the passage that was read aloud. "I'll reread it, and you listen to how I pronounce things. My accent I know adds emphasis to the words, but that should help you a bit more, no?" With a smile, the Briton opened his mouth and read off the very same text that Alfred had just done.

"_Mr. Utterson the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance that was never lighted by a smile; cold, scanty and embarrassed in discourse; backward in sentiment; lean, long, dusty, dreary and yet somehow lovable. At friendly meetings, and when the wine was to his taste, something eminently human beaconed from his eyes; something indeed which never found its way into his talk, but which spoke not only in these silent symbols of the after-dinner face, but more often and loudly in the acts of his life. He was austere with himself; drank gin when he was alone, to mortify a taste for vintages; and though he enjoyed the theater, had not crossed the doors of one for twenty years. But he had an approved tolerance for others; sometimes wondering, almost with envy, at the high pressure of spirits involved in their misdeeds; and in any extremity inclined to help rather than to reprove. "I incline to Cain's heresy," he used to say quaintly. "I let my brother go to the devil in his own way." In this character, it was frequently his fortune to be the last reputable acquaintance and the last good influence in the lives of down-going men. And to such as these, so long as they came about his chambers, he never marked a shade of change in his demeanor._" (_The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde 1886)_

The Snakeman looked up once he had finished, closing the book in his hands as he did so. "Did that shine any light on the places where you were confused?"

"Kinda-sorta…" Alfred shrugged his shoulders, "I heard where I screwed up, that's for damn sure."

"And in due time you'll be reading as well as I do, Alfred. In due time." With a smile, Arthur shifted himself with his back against the carriage like before and stretched his legs out. He brought a hand up to his mouth, covering it as he yawned, and then peered over at Alfred.

He looked relatively bored, and so the Briton patted his lap, "Come here."

"What? Why?" The American's eyes seemed to get wider.

"Your head, here," Arthur patted his lap a second time, giving the younger man an incredulous look. "Stop acting so damn silly."

With a huff, the American complied with the request and laid his head on the other man's lap, looking up and into his vivid green orbs. He said not a word as the Englishman's fingers began to twist and twirl with the golden locks of hair.

Within a matter of moments, the gentle motion put the American to sleep and Arthur was merely smiling down at him while his fingers continued to coil and pull at the locks of hair. Who knew that the man enjoyed his hair being played with?

He was glad that Alfred was putting forth the effort to learn how to read, but he could just see how difficult this road would be to cross. Alfred was stubborn, and when he didn't like something, he'd most always fight against whatever it was. The Briton was merely hoping that he was going to be completely serious about this.

After all, reading was a necessity. Least in the eyes of Arthur it was.

O~O~O

The troupe of traveling carnies arrived in good time at the next town—a small place in Essex near the coast. It was Blair's idea to go there, and since no one complained, it officially became the groups' next destination.

Early morning was about the time that they arrived. They found the location they were allowed to set up at, and went about emptying the carriages of their belongings, tents, and other items.

Late into the evening was when the majority of work was finished, and it wasn't until lunchtime that following day that the rest of it was done.

It was always a lot of work, setting up more so than taking everything down, but it was worth it in the end to be settled and know that you were staying for a good amount of time.

That very evening, once everything was completely done, the entire cast of carnies made way for the dining hall where the Italian twins and the Spanish animal tamer were busy preparing the meal.

Alfred took a seat with Arthur at one of the tables inside, the very table where Gilbert, Ludwig, Roderick, and Elizaveta were seated around. All four of them greeted the two as they took a seat side by side.

"I saw that you two got stuck with Gilbert on your trip here, huh?" The Hungarian woman grimaced, "Must have been loud."

Beside her Roderick held back a smirk, not saying anything as he received a dirty look from the Prussian who was seated on the Austrian's other side.

"Not quite. In fact, this one here was the loudest," Arthur jabbed a finger toward the strongman. "Gilbert was actually napping for most of the ride, which I don't blame him for. I would have napped myself if it were possible." On his face was a soft smile as he turned his head to look at his lover beside him.

"I wasn't the loudest!" Alfred protested, but quickly fell silent. By yelling he wasn't exactly helping prove his point. "You made me read, and out loud even, so what did you expect?"

"Oh shush, love. I was teasing. Do you need a lesson on how to tell a joke from seriousness as well as your reading?" When Arthur received the usual look he would see from Alfred when he was sad, a frown with a slightly puffed out bottom lip, he knew that he had offended the man with his words. "Another tease, darling."

Ludwig spoke up next to break the forming argument, his thick accent making it difficult for the American to understand. "Gilbert usually does well on these trips. He either naps or I make him lead the carriage to give me a break."

Elizaveta opened her mouth to speak, but Gilbert beat her to the punch and spoke up himself. His words were aimed more toward the Hungarian woman more than anyone else.

"I'm not _ithat/i_ bad, okay?" He let out an exasperated sigh, "Have some faith!" He then turned his eyes to Ludwig, "Thank you, Bruder, for having my back on this one."

That earned him a simple nod from the large German, but nothing more.

"'Have some faith!' says the fire breather who nearly always burns down three tents per location. The ringmaster has no faith in you anymore. Why should we?" The Hungarian woman was quick to draw on that comment.

"Not just tents, either. He has the tendency to burn himself as well. Oh, the cost of medical supplies!" The Austrian jumped in, making his own jabs at the fire breather with a self-satisfied smirk upon his lips.

"Quit picking on me," The albino crossed his arms over his chest, huffing to show just how annoyed he was at that moment, but within a few passing moments he burst into a cackle. "Eh, here comes the chow. Let us forget about this silly nonsense and move on to better conversation."

"I second that," Alfred added in, "I don't know you lot well enough to be pickin' on any of ya, so let's have some conversation I can jump in on."

Ludwig raised his head then, his piercing eyes landing on Alfred, "Has Arthur warned you yet?"

"Warned me 'bout what?" A look of concern crossed the young American's face then. He turned his eyes to Arthur, who adorned a look of confusion of his own—apparently he was lost too by what Ludwig was saying to them.

"This circus is full of a bunch of characters—you want conversation you can join in on? You'll have plenty of opportunities." The German stood up then, following his brother to the table where the prepared meal was laid out for anyone to grab. Plates were set out, along with the silverware and glasses for drinks.

Before Elizaveta joined the brother's, she looked down at the American, "Can you believe that Ludwig is the younger of the two? When I first learned that…" She shook her head, "Lud is very mature and knows what he's doing, while Gil…"

"Is a fool with no self-control," Roderick added.

"You're no better at self-control with your rude words and jabs toward him. No one is perfect, Roderick."

"So says the queen," The Austrian tilted his nose upward, taking on a regal air to further add to his teasing, but within moments after he ended the façade and wore a gentle smile. He turned and headed away toward the food just in time before a fist came toward him with the intent to harm. He was lucky.

She sighed, watching him as he left, and then turned back to the two still seated and waved a hand to dismiss the topic. "Leave it to my husband, yes? Well, I don't want to further bore you with trivial nonsense. Come, come, let us get some food before it's all inhaled." She turned from where she stood; following in the same direction as the other two had gone.

Arthur and Alfred followed suit, standing and following after the others, and then waiting in the short line to get their turn at getting some grub. The days' work, that day and the ones prior, had taken its toll on all of the circus members and a good meal was much needed.

A good meal and some relaxation before the shows began the following morning.

That night's meal was nothing too special though, and it mostly consisted of potatoes more than anything else. No one was complaining of course. They'd not had the chance to go to the nearby grocer and get very much that day, and money was a little low since traveling always took a lot out of the budget.

Once the six of them got their dishes, they returned to the table and took their previous places where the chatter resumed almost immediately.

The topics of conversation were miscellaneous, everyone jumping in with their two cents, so often the current topic would change to a new one. Everyone was okay with that. They were having a good time, even when the beer and whiskey were brought out.

If anything the alcohol helped fuel the talking, and the conversations became more boisterous and rowdy.

"And then guess what he did next? Guess!" The accent was thicker on the Prussian's drunken tongue, but everyone still managed to understand what it was he was trying to get across. Even Alfred understood him, though he had a few more difficulties that luckily Arthur was willing to help him with.

"He took it down?" Someone at the table answered, probably Roderick, but Alfred couldn't tell.

"Nein! Guess again." A cackle left the albino's mouth.

"Uh, he ignored the officials?" Another voice answered. The American couldn't tell who it was then. Too many people had joined their table by that time, having been drawn by the story that was being told, and the alcohol added with the accents and everything going on was just too much for the poor American to handle. He stopped trying to decipher voices after some point.

The plates had been cleared off from dinner, and in their stead were bottles and glasses—the real fun had begun.

Gilbert snorted loudly, "No, he left it up!" The laughter that left his mouth was the loudest yet, and he apparently found his own story to be amusing more than anyone else had. No one else laughed with him, least none of the sober people did that is.

"Oh, oh, I got another story! Hang on and lemme remember it." The fire breather stopped for a moment, taking on a serious look before he started up his second story for the night. "Okay, okay I got it. I once caught the tent on fire, at, at my uh…" He paused, "at my first circus. Gosh they loved me there, let me tell you! They, uhm, wanted to make me ringmaster, like no joke! Anyway, people came from hundreds—no, i_thousands_/i of miles to come see me, the awesome fire breather." He broke off there briefly to take a big gulp of the beer in hand, but when he placed it back down the look on his face was a confused one. "Uhm… what was I talking about again?"

"Something about a tent?" Arthur answered for the bewildered Prussian. He had a fairly thick eyebrow raised from how ridiculous this was. Just begun a story and was already too wasted to even properly remember it.

"Oh yeah, the tent thing. It was awesome! I was trying to make a bird, and, and well, it turned into this dragon and… and… it caught the tent! The tent was on fire! And, well, gosh…" He hiccupped, "It was really awesome."

"I suppose it was one of those 'you had to be there' moments, yes?" Elizaveta asked, a smile perched upon her lips. She too had drank her share, but nowhere near as much as the other's had. She wanted to remember what happened that night unlike Gilbert who was already far gone.

"Yeah, you just had to be there! Maybe one day I could show you my awesome dragon?" The Prussian sent a wink in the Hungarian woman's direction, which earned a flood of red to her cheeks and very nasty glares from her husband.

More conversation went on, but partially through Arthur tugged at Alfred's arm. When he got the younger man's attention, he leaned closer to his ear and whispered.

"May we leave?"

"Now?"

"I'm quite knackered, love."

"I 'spose we can." The American nodded his head, and then shifted down on the bench till he reached the end and got up onto his feet. Arthur followed suit.

The Snakeman turned to look at the other carnies, giving a sad smile to match the looks of confusion he and his partner were receiving. "Sad to say that we're shoving off for the night."

"But the party is just getting somewhere!" Gilbert huffed with distaste. "Kid, why don't you stay and the old man here go off to rest up his bones alone?" He turned his crimson eyes to the American.

Alfred held back a snicker, already feeling the hate that was emitting from the Briton's gaze as those vivid eyes fell on both Gilbert and himself. "As much as I would love to stay, I'm still going to decline. See you lot tomorrow." He reached over to Arthur and took his hand, intertwining their fingers as he led the fuming man out of the dining tent and into the cool night air.

Gilbert stuck his tongue out at the couple's backsides as they left, and then took a long gulp of his beer before slamming the empty glass down on the tables wooden surface. He looked around at the others who all had eyes on him. "What?" He raised a light-colored eyebrow, giving those closest to him a perplexed kind of expression.

"Old man was rude," Elizaveta wagged a finger at the Prussian.

He gestured at his own face which had taken on a new look—irritated. "Do I look like I care, Liz?"

With a sigh and a shake of the head, the Hungarian moved away from the boisterous albino and also her husband who had delved deep into some conversation with Ludwig. She made her way elsewhere and away from the unnecessary comments, finding herself to be in the company of more enjoyable folk.

O~O~O

"Are you really tired?" Alfred asked once outside the tent, his sky blue orbs landing on the gentleman to his side as they walked along passed pitched tents until they found their own. Blair had agreed to allowing the two of them to share a living space, which was all around a good idea.

A large tent all to the American himself was too much for what little items he had, and by sharing it saved space overall.

"A little yes, but that wasn't the full reason as to why I asked to leave."

"So the truth comes out," The American laughed softly.

"Why yes, I suppose it does." Arthur gave him an unamused look as he pulled back their tent flap and went inside.

Alfred followed him, letting the thick fabric fall back into place behind him. He heard a little fumbling around somewhere in the dark of the tent, then the striking of a match, and soon light filled the room.

Arthur lit a few more candles for light, not bothering with any lanterns. It was just the two of them after all. A bunch of light wasn't necessary.

The Snakeman turned and glanced at his lover briefly before turning his attention elsewhere. "Elizabeth?" He knelt before a fairly large cage and released the lock, letting the enormous beast out from the confinement of her cage. "Do make sure that you secure the tent entrance please, Alfred." He turned his bright eyes toward the male still standing. "Can't be having her get out now, can we?"

The young American immediately did as he was asked, making sure the entrance was closed up tight so the snake slithering about couldn't escape, and then turned to walk to the cot.

Upon request, the cot, the one that was broken by previous activities, was exchanged for a somewhat larger one. That meant that he and Arthur could now sleep together with a little more comfort, and both men were more than ok with that. They loved each other's company, but having a little more wiggle room at night was pleasant.

The American propped up the pillows at the head of the bed, kicking off his shoes and leaning his back up against them. He patted beside him for Arthur to join him, and soon the man did after removing his own shoes.

The Briton leaned against the pillows, but when he looked up at Alfred and saw a frown on his face, he let out a sigh and snuggled his body closer against the strongman. His head was resting near the American's neck, and he could feel an arm moving to wrap around Arthur's shoulders to draw him in even closer against his chest—he could feel Alfred's steady heartbeat.

The Englishman noticed that he was being as gentle as possible with how he touched him, and he appreciated that.

"Arthur," Alfred spoke slowly after a few minutes of pleasurable silence.

"Hm?" The Snakeman hummed.

"We're by the ocean."

"Yes, I know. You can hear the waters."

"You know what we should do?" A smile was in the strongman's voice; Arthur could hear it loud and clear.

"What?"

"Go for a swim."

Arthur shifted from where he was, looking up at Alfred who was merely smiling a cheeky grin down at him.

"A swim?"

"Yup."

"Whatever for?" Arthur knitted his brows together. An odd request that was, to swim.

"Just to say we did."

"What's the point then?"

"Does there need to be a point?"

The Briton scoffed, "Of course there needs to be a point. It's pointless if it doesn't have a point."

Alfred just laughed, wrapping both of his arms around the man that was now giving him weird looks. "I've never properly seen the ocean before. I've seen it, of course, but only when I was on a ship coming here to Britain. I want to see it again, and swim in the waters, with you."

"Do you know how cold that water is right now?"

"Not cold enough to not swim, right?" Hope was in the American's voice.

"Will it make you stop bothering me if I say yes to your silly request?"

"Yeah."

"Then we'll go swimming, okay?"

The American buried his face into the Englishman's shirt collar and neck, humming in contentment and with a smile on his face.

Arthur didn't know what to do with himself. He found their current position to be fairly awkward, but after a few he brought his arms up to wrap around the other's neck. He held him there, his cheeks flushed a soft pink, until a few long moments of silence passed and Alfred opened his mouth to speak.

"Can we go _now_?"

"Right now?"

"Yeah."

"Will you start to whine if I refuse?"

"Yes, because you said you would go swimming with me."

"But I never agreed to when." Arthur stated, "Why are you so damn difficult? Can't you just be content sitting here with me?"

"Well I am content, just I want to swim now before the water gets any colder. It's October. It's getting colder and colder and I know we won't be in this town for very long. A month at max like usual." Alfred let out a huff. "If we wait too long, and I know you'll try to push this off, it'll be too late."

The Englishman let out a sigh, and then wiggled out of the strongman's grasp as he got up onto his feet. He placed his hands on his hips as he gave a stern expression to the American. "Fine, we'll go now because I can't say that that isn't true of me—I would try and push this off." He shifted himself away from the other man and slipped on his shoes, and then went about the tent in search of towels. Once he found the few that they were given, each carnie was only allowed one large towel, he waited near the entrance of the tent with a discontented look upon his features.

"Why the long face there?" Alfred inquired, shifting himself to the edge of the bedding and slipping on his shoes as well.

"I don't want to go. I'm knackered."

"The water will wake you up a little I'm sure."

"So cheeky today, aren't you?" That disgruntled look on the Briton's face morphed into a scowl.

Alfred just laughed and stood, joining the man near the tent flap. "We good to go?" He raised his eyebrows and rocked back and forth on his heels for a moment.

"Not quite," Arthur moved away momentarily to go to his suitcase and retrieve a few things. When he returned to the strongman's side, he was holding a new set of clothing.

Alfred eye-balled the items in the Englishman's hands, and then his blue orbs shifted upwards to meet with Arthur's green. "That for after swimming?" He jabbed a finger at the pieces of clothing.

"No."

"To _wear_ while swimming?"

Arthur nodded, and Alfred scoffed at the absurdity.

"You ain't wearin' clothes in that water, you crazy?"

"_Me_ crazy?"

"Yeah," The taller man stood in front of the Brit, taking the clothing from him but leaving the towels in his arms. "What we're doing requires no clothing."

"I beg to differ!" Arthur gave the man before him a dirty look before trying to snatch the garments back from him. "I am wearing clothing in that water, Alfred. It's going to be cold! Do you want me to freeze?"

"No, you're not, Arthur, and I ain't wearin' any clothing either. We'll be fine," The American leaned down and connected their lips together just long enough to silence the other before pulling away with a wide grin. "Trust me."

"You're crazy."

"No, I simply know how to have fun unlike a stiff like yourself."

"Rude."

Alfred shrugged his shoulders, and then took the items of clothing and placed them down on the cot. He returned to Arthur with another smile plastered upon his handsome features, "This is really no big deal. It's just me. I've seen you naked before, Artie."

"Still rude," The Briton shook his head, crossing his arms. It wasn't just the reason of him being nude around Alfred. They'd seen each other with lack of clothing numerous times before, and it was no big surprise. What it was that was bothering him most was that he didn't like the fact of swimming with no clothes on in general. He didn't like it, he didn't even like the after dark shows he used to do for that same reason, but he knew that if he tried to further decline he would lose.

Alfred was irritating when he would start whining, and the only way to get him to stop was to comply. If you yelled at the guy he'd get upset, and when he was upset he would pout and grow quiet.

In other words, the cycle would most always end in the same way—Alfred getting whatever it was he wanted from the start.

Arguments were like that too, or at least the petty ones were. They had yet to have a real nasty fight, which Arthur was thankful for—he didn't know how a fight like that would play out between them.

"If you just trust me you'll have fun," The American leaned down, pressing his lips to the Briton's forehead with a smile. "Okay?" When he drew back, his expression was pleading and hopeful.

The Englishman just nodded his head, not wanting to argue anymore. There was no point to this anymore. It was simply better to give Alfred what it was he wanted, and besides that what was the point in Arthur refusing to go swimming in the nude with his lover? He loved Alfred, he was used to being around him and with him, and seeing him in the nude was a treat.

He shouldn't be complaining about a good thing.

"Is your silence a yes?" Alfred inquired, a brow rising to add to his curious expression.

Another nod from the Briton, "You are correct."

The American's smile widened as he took the towels from the other man's arms, holding them himself, and then proceeded to take Arthur's wrist and lead him outside. He made sure that the tents entrance was properly secured before he took Arthur's hand properly and led him toward the ocean. That usual silly grin rested upon his face as a scowl was upon his partner's.

Even though Arthur didn't want to be doing this, he wasn't about to admit that deep down he really did want to just for the sake of making the American happy.

O~O~O

Alfred glanced at the Briton as he removed his suspenders, sliding them off his shoulders and letting them fall, and then proceeded to unbutton his shirt. He'd long ago kicked off his shoes, allowing his bare feet to stand in the sand.

Within a matter of minutes, the man was already down to his undergarments while Arthur was still fully dressed.

Alfred put both hands on his hips, "Do you need a little help or something?" His eyes were upon the Englishman, who currently seemed to be fumbling with the buttons of his trousers.

"No, I'm fully capable of undressing myself, thank you." Arthur sent a scowl toward the strongman.

"Then are ya gonna to do it or not?"

With a sigh, the Snakeman began to undo the buttons of his shirt, and then his finished up with his trousers, and soon enough he was dressed in the same amount as his partner—nothing but his undergarments.

"Last piece," The American said with a smile, and then without anything else spoken, he was pulling that remaining piece of fabric down. He let it fall to his ankles before stepping out, now fully nude, and then walked over to where Arthur stood on the sand.

"How about a little help with this one?" The American hooked two fingers into the fabric at the top, leaning his head down as he kissed along the man's neck sensually, before pulling the article of clothing down past Arthur's hips and even further until it fell around his ankles.

The Snakeman tilted his head back, making it easier for those soft lips to move about his fair skin. He was wishing for more—nips, bites, licks—anything so long as he got more of the delicious attention. However, within seconds of starting the torture, it was over and Arthur's hands were taken into the American's own. He could feel his cheeks turning a dark shade of red, and he felt a cool breeze against his lower regions.

Alfred pulled him carefully toward the water, a smile on his sweet face. "We won't be in long, I promise. It practically is ice cold and I don't want either of us to get sick, but I thought that this would be fun."

"I'm glad you're at least thinking that far ahead. Most always you don't think at all." Arthur shook his head, turning his gaze elsewhere, but when he finally looked back at the man he'd fallen in love with, Arthur was wearing a genuine smile. "I don't doubt that this would be fun. After all, I am with you, love. You make most anything enjoyable."

The strongman crinkled his brows together, studying the other male briefly before his own face broke out into a genuine smile to match. "This is the first smile I've seen since dinner."

"Well there's no reason to be smiling all the time, so why waste the effort?"

Alfred stopped walking then, only their feet and ankles in the water at that point. "No reason to smile?" He was looking Arthur dead in the eyes. "There's always a reason to smile. Like… you and me. That's something to smile about, and having a home with people who love you is another reason. What about having food to eat all the time? People to talk to? Being able to be safe and sound without the worry of anyone finding or harming you? I have a lot of reasons to be smiling, but I suppose you don't, huh?" He gave a partial smile, and then continued with leading the other into the water.

Such a sweet moment turned sour so quickly.

Arthur stopped the other man when they were knee-deep, spinning him back around to face him and placing his hands on his bare shoulders. "I was wrong to phrase it like that. I have reasons to be smiling, everyone does, but you're the biggest one of them all for me, Alfred." He leaned over and brought their lips together, kissing him for a good, long moment before pulling away. He could feel his body beginning to show the first signs of cold, shivering, and he didn't want them to be out here for too terribly long.

With a sigh, and a quick flash of a smile, the Briton began to take the lead until he felt the other man removing his hand from his grasp. A question was about to leave his lips, but it was soon answered as the strong American scooped the Englishman into his arms and carried him quickly into the water.

It was better to get the shock of the frigid water over with quick rather than waiting it out and going about it slowly, so it appeared that Alfred was going to clear that path for the both of them.

The mood lightened up quickly after that, and soon the two of them were laughing and swimming about for a good, short while until Arthur asked if they could be done.

It was nice, and the Briton did enjoy himself once they were in completely, just the nagging fear of them getting a cold was there pestering him the entire time.

Blair would kill them if either of them caught a silly cold, especially Alfred what with his debut show in only a few days' time.

Thinking about the other man's debut gave the Englishman a reminder, but he didn't voice it just yet. Even as they were wrapped up in their towels and heading back to their tent he kept his mouth closed.

It wasn't until they were dressed in their night clothing, snuggling into the bedding on the cot together, when he finally mentioned what it was that came to mind back on the sandy beach.

"Alfred?"

"Yeah?" The American sounded rather sleepy, but obviously still awake enough to still be speaking.

"Your first show is soon."

"I know. I'm excited." But instead of excitement in his voice, the American yawned and snuggled his head further into his pillow and the crook of Arthur's neck.

"Do you have any idea what it is that you'll be wearing for it?" Arthur shifted the slightest, intertwining their legs under the sheets and bringing himself even closer than before. He'd gotten a cold chill, and apparently Alfred noticed it too since he also shifted their positions a little.

"Not a clue," He let out a sigh.

The Snakeman could feel the other man's warm breath against his neck, and he also noticed his warming cheeks. "We should probably figure that out soon."

"Probably…" Another yawn broke of any other words that may have been coming from Alfred's mouth, but Arthur took that opportunity to speak again himself.

"Does tomorrow sound good to you? Once our first show here at the new location is over?"

"Mmm… yeah…"

Arthur could hear that the other male was beginning to drift off, and so he kept his mouth quiet and brought his hands up, lacing his fingers through that golden hair and further lulling the American to sleep.

He didn't want to keep him up any more than he already had with pointless chatter.

They would have time tomorrow to figure out his costume, so no need to talk about it then.

The Snakeman settled his head into the pillow, tilting his head back the slightest bit, and moved his hands into a more comfortable position. After some time had passed, he finally drifted off into sleep himself.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

Added notes: The italicized chunks of text above were taken from _The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_ 1886. The first paragraph is the same as the second; only the first one has bad pronunciation, and grammar, since Alfred is reading out loud. The second paragraph is the exact words and phrasings straight from the book. This here is a disclaimer, and my citing of the source used.


	5. Chapter 5

**Warning:** Circus, freak show, Snakeman [not serpent], mention of police, hinting at Alfred's past, minor boy x boy

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia nor any of its characters.

**Author's Notes:** And so the story progresses! It's slowly getting more into the real story that's to come, but for the time being enjoy some teasers. Also, accept my apology for how long this took and for how short it is. I've been really busy, and have been slowly working on this ever since the last chapter ended. Also doesn't help that my inspiration stopped for a bit, but it came back. No idea when the next chapter will be out, so if it takes just as long as this one I'm sorry.

Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this chapter.

The artwork that's used as the image for this story still belongs to me. You can find it on my DeviantART page.  
Also, visit my Ask Strongman and Snakeman USUK ask blog on Tumblr. [ ask-strongman-and-snakeman-usuk ]

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"Nothing too tight please. That last one was uncomfortable, Artie."

"I don't plan for you to be wearing anything tight up on stage. Everyone would…" The Snakeman turned his head away, color rising into his cheeks.

"See my junk?"

"Yes, love, 'see your junk,'" The Briton mocked an American accent best he could, but that twinge of his own wedged its way in.

Alfred laughed and tossed the thin fabric he'd peeled off from his body onto the bedding of the cot. Not only did he not want everyone to see him for all his glory, at least not his lower regions, but he also didn't want to feel constricted. He didn't care if he showed off his torso. He knew he had a superb body, and showing that off he knew would attract more people—wouldn't Blair be delighted.

Arthur cleared his throat, "We're merely going to try on anything we have. In the end you'll probably be in your usual wear excluding the shirt of course. Have to show off those big, strong muscles after all." As he continued to speak, he dropped the garb in his hands into the open chest near his feet and ran his cool hands up his lover's arms. He showed a genuine smile, giving his biceps a good squeeze. "But not too much of course. You are mine after all, and I'm known to be the jealous type." He gave a wink, showing that he was joking of course, and moved back to pick that last garment up.

"Well, there would be no reason to be jealous anyway. Like you said I'm yours, and no doubt about that, honey." The American moved his arms around Arthur's waist, giving a few sweet, compassionate kisses to the exposed, scale-speckled skin.

The Briton's cheeks warmed up worse than before, but he had to bring an end to this. They had a job to do after all, and only a day or two to finish up and figure out a solution.

He brought a hand up and forced Alfred's face away, giving an apologetic smile before shoving the clothing into his strong hands. "You're such a sweet talker, but I know you mean your words. Like a big puppy is what you are, Alfred. You do no harm on purpose and all you do is love." Arthur leaned up and brought their lips together briefly before taking a few steps backward.

He waved a hand toward the taller male, "Get changed and let's see how you look in those."

Doing as told, the American removed the current costume he wore and replaced it with a new one. This outfit wasn't so bad when compared to the tight, stretchy one he was forced into previously. Whatever that material was, he did not like it, not one bit. He didn't like showing off _every_ part of his body.

He had his dignity, and that was going to stay intact.

Arthur liked the arrangement they had set up here, considering Alfred wasn't embarrassed to be changing in front of someone. That meant the Englishman got a full view of everything he loved about Alfred's body—all of it. It would have been absurd if Alfred _iwas/i_ embarrassed to change before him though. There'd be no point in it. They already live together, sleep together, eat together, and practically do everything else together—why not change in front of each other as well?

An hour passed, many more outfits were tried on, and in the end Alfred ended up in his first outfit—nothing but his trousers, boots, and suspenders. Simple, yes, but enough to draw a crowd in.

Even though it was only an hour, to Alfred it felt like a whole year had trudged by. And, go figure, it was spent by wearing silly outfits and costumes that just by looking at them he knew he wouldn't wear it. He had to state the obvious in this case.

"Ended up with our first choice like we both figured," The strongman stuck his tongue out at his partner, crossing his arms over his chest.

Trying on each and every outfit they could produce out of thin air became rather frustrating for the poor American, but Arthur seemed to be enjoying himself all throughout the experience. Good for him, but Al wasn't nearly as amused.

He knew what outfits he wouldn't like, but even if he stated that fact the Briton would still insist that he must try on every piece to ensure their choice.

He just wanted to see the strongman in tight, form-fitting pants and tops.

"Yes, we did, but at least we both settled and decided on the same thing. Blair should be satisfied." Arthur looked up into the exquisite blue of his partner's eyes, giving him a sweet smile. "You make your debut soon. You'll officially be one of us, and won't have to sit around the camp all day and do nothing. Not to mention Rylee and I won't have to baby sit you anymore." He laughed, placing his hand lightly on the other man's arm. The look he was getting from Alfred, despite him trying to show how unamused he was, only made the Briton's smile widen. "You know I love to tease."

Alfred just let out a sigh, shifting away from the Snakeman and taking a seat on the edge of the metal cot. He was still in the suspenders and trousers—his new, and permanent, show outfit.

"Something wrong, love?" Arthur took notice to how unusually slumped and deflated the man seemed to look, and so sudden of a change too. It was blatant whenever the American's usual rays of sunshine were dampened.

He joined the strongman on the cot, perching himself to his side, and placed a hand on his shoulder. The Snakeman was of troubled countenance as he watched the man he loved sulk. "Your mood fell so quickly, is everything all right? I'm sorry if it was the outfits. I shouldn't have made you try on so many silly ones I suppose, but I was enjoying myself a little too much."

"It's not that, Arthur. I was having fun; it did get tiring after some point, but I was having fun still." Alfred moved his hand, taking hold of one of the Englishman's and interlacing their fingers. He gave it a tender squeeze, careful not to be too fierce about it. "Looking in the mirror and seeing myself in this, and then knowing my debut show is just in a matter of days… it got me thinking. I never imaged this would be where I ended up in the future, and I can't help but wonder what my parents would think if they knew I was a contributor to a traveling freak show."

The strongman shook his head, closing his eyes briefly to collect himself and stop from saying any more. Arthur could never know about the secret he was holding, so he had to be cautious and not say too much. He was sure that if Arthur knew about his true situation he wouldn't be nearly as trusting.

Sure, he'd been homeless when he first found the circus and kept running into the Snakeman, but homeless because he was running from the authorities? _and_ being wanted by them overall? He didn't know how Arthur would react to that honestly, so he wasn't going to take any chances of ruining the only good thing he had going for him.

Arthur leaned his shoulder against the larger man, looking toward him and lifting his downward chin with his free hand. Their eyes met; Arthur's a gentle green and Alfred's a worried blue. "I never thought I would be a traveling freak when I was younger. I was hoping to be someone successful and not be a part of the family business, but of course fate had different plans for me." He leaned up and planted a loving kiss upon the gloomy American's cheek, trying his finest to make him feel better. "No one knows where they'll end up, Alfred, and there's no way in figuring it out. Don't stress about it, love."

The Briton stood to his feet, keeping a gentle hand on the stronger male's shoulders as he gave a soft pinch. "I love your smile, so why don't you show me one? Besides, there's no reason to dwell on this."

Alfred moved his head upward, observing the other as he stood and tried to comfort him further. He did as asked though, and flashed a soft smile to the man to please him. He knew that he was being ridiculous by bringing this up, but he couldn't help it—even brawny men thought from time to time.

But, he would drop the topic here and now. There really was no reason to bring this up ever again, and there was even less of a reason to dwell on it.

"That's more like it, now come on, darling. We have to go find my brother and tell him the news." The Snakeman took both of Alfred's hands into his own, assisting him to his feet with a matching smile on his gentle face.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

Posters—posters everywhere. He was on them, stretching out his muscular arms and showing off his body clad in nothing but trousers. It was weird to walk by them and see them. To see his face, smiling and bright, staring back at him. He never thought he would see the day he'd be so-called famous.

The new Kirkland Family Circus strongman dug his hands deep into the pockets of his trousers as he trudged along the street the day after he figured out his garments for the show. Every corner there he was, another poster on a brick wall or a flyer in a store window.

Blair was taking this advertisement thing a little far, but he couldn't help but smile a little.

He was renowned. He was looked forward too. People _wanted_ to see him.

The thought was making his smile widen.

Being wanted by crowds of people was going to be a nice change from being wanted by the police.

The police… that's right. He had a knack for forgetting that they still wanted him. Even though he thought about it the previous day, he was still able to forget about it so easily. He did have a new life what with joining the circus and all, but he wouldn't be able to run away from his past either. Or at least, he wouldn't be able to run away forever. His problem was bound to catch up to him after some point.

Alfred Jones continued to walk alongside the road, staring toward the pictures of himself on every other wall. Of course, he wasn't the only person on display. Arthur was just as big as he was, and so alongside some of his own posters were some of the Snakeman too. The twins were on a couple he saw, and even the Hungarian woman who read fortunes and danced as a side show could be found on a few.

It was fascinating to see them all, but the ones that really brought him the most interest were his own. Every time he walked passed one he would stare up at it in awe like a kid wandering through a candy store with pockets filled of coins.

The American made his way further down the street, his mind filled with thought as his eyes kept watch on his surroundings and the posters. He was scared and nervous about his debut show in a few days. He'd never been in the spotlight before. He'd only ever been shunned and looked-down upon for his ability, so being applauded and loved for his strength? It was going to be a wonderful change.

Currently, the American was making his way back to the circus, back home, where he would slip into the circus' main show and soak in how things worked. He'd already seen the show numerous times before, but he liked watching it and taking mental notes would be beneficial. Besides, he loved seeing Arthur in the spotlight the most. He could remember when he first saw the Snakeman; in the center of that ring he seemed distressed and as if he didn't want to be there at all. Now when Alfred watched him he could see the hint of a smile on his face as he strutted around and scared the crowd of onlookers.

Arthur was the best thing that ever happened to him, and it seemed that his influence had the same impact on Arthur as well. They were perfect for each other.

He let out a soft sigh, looking up at the cloudy heavens as he stopped in his tracks on the walkway. It was a nice day despite the lingering, darkened clouds that threatened to rain on his parade.

Even though just the previous day he was feeling a little blue about all of this, seeing those posters with his face all over the town was enough to lift his spirits. It was a good day so far.

That is until realization slapped the American so hard in the face that he almost toppled backwards from the force of it.

Posters of his face plastered all over the town.

Posters of him, Alfred Jones, the strongman.

Everyone, anyone, could walk by one and see him.

They could walk by and see the face of a wanted criminal running from the law.

That smile that adorned Alfred's gentle face fell and immediately in its stead a look of pure shock and horror replaced it.

"Oh my God…" his lips whispered as his feet moved him forward in a hurry. The first poster he came across he tore it down. He got as much of the paper off that wall as he possibly could, crumpled it, and tossed it away into the street before moving on to the next one.

Poster after poster after flyer after flyer came down in a crumpled heap of paper until Alfred finally wore himself out. He doubled over and caught his breath, running his hands through his hair as he internally screamed and cried out in distress.

How could he be so damn stupid?

How could he do this to himself?

There were photos of himself all around the damn town, and all it took was one smart policeman to make the connection between his face up there on those propaganda posters and his face down here in person.

"Oh God, oh God I'm screwed, aren't I? How could this happen…" He leaned his backside against the nearest brick wall, collapsing completely as he buried his face in his hands. If he were caught now, his free ride and finally happy life would be done for. He'd lose everything all over again, and he didn't know if he could handle that a second time.

The police didn't care. They never did even when he was a minor. Not like his crime was horrible—he hadn't murdered anyone—and technically he didn't do anything in general.

Of course, they wouldn't believe him if he plead not guilty and accused others of tricking him into it. They wouldn't believe, they wouldn't care, and they wouldn't be kind about it either.

After a few long minutes, the American rose to his feet and removed his glasses, wiping them clean before placing them back on his face.

Everything will be okay.

He let out a sigh, bringing back his happy demeanor and continuing down the street in a hurry. Even though that smile was on his face, he was sure it registered loud and clear as forced. His formerly happy-go-lucky self was clouded by an impeding storm.

Luck would be on his side though, and everything would be just fine and dandy.

O~O~O

"How are you feeling, love?" Arthur had been noticing something was wrong with the American ever since the end of his first show when Alfred paid him a pleasant visit. Even though he was smiling and seemed cheery, he knew something was wrong. He knew Alfred. And, even now as it was later in the evening, he noticed the strangeness about Alfred just as strongly as he had beforehand.

The younger male turned his head to the side, staring at Arthur with both brows raised high, "I'm feeling fine?" He placed his hands on his knees, keeping his blue orbs glued to the Briton before rising to his feet from the cot. "Why do you ask?"

"Just making sure. I'm allowed to worry, you know," Arthur glanced toward the other male from over shoulder before kneeling down and picking up a few books that were knocked over earlier in the day. When he stood and placed the items down on a collapsible table, he spun around to face Al. "After yesterday, I've been worrying about you more." He took slow steps forward, stopping when he found himself in front of the younger man. He reached his hands out, placing them on Alfred's chest as his eyes looked him straight on.

"You don't need to worry about me, Arthur." Alfred brought his own hands up, cupping Arthur's cheeks in his palms as he gave him a gentle smile. "Really, you don't need to worry. I'm fine, I promise, and I'm sorry for making you concerned." He leaned down and captured the other man's lips with his own, giving him a sweet kiss before pulling back.

Arthur just smiled at the man, giving him one more kiss before moving away to the cot. He sat on the edge, looking up toward the American. "You know, if you're stressed about your coming debut, I know of a way to help." He averted his eyes, staring down at the ground as a shy smile crossed his lips.

Alfred, for once, wasn't being that oblivious as he caught on to what the other was hinting at. He could use a stress-reliever. All the pressure from the unveiling as the strongman, and then the revelation he had yesterday while he was walking the streets was really building up. A night alone with his love sounded like the perfect way to cure his ailing mind.

O~O~O

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

O~O~O

"Sadiq… doesn't this guy look awfully familiar?" A delicate hand pointed upward, the end of her finger aiming at the face of the man on the poster she stood before. It was a propaganda poster for the Kirkland Family Circus, something that the duo caught wind of the moment they entered this town.

"Yeah, he kind of does, but I can't really put my finger on a name or anything."

The dark-haired woman turned to look at her partner, her thin eyebrows creasing. "We know him."

"You think?"

"I know. He's too familiar to just be another face." She placed her hands on her hips, tilting her head to the side. "It's a shame it doesn't say his name on this silly thing. That might help…"

The pair stood there, deep in thought, until it clicked in the woman's mind. "Alfred Jones. That brat we used to work with, in the States, remember? We were young back then, but I recall his face."

Sadiq's eyebrows shot up as a large smile crossed his lips, "Yeah, now I remember. No wonder he joined the damn circus—he makes a perfect strongman, don't he?"

"He was always a freak, so yeah he fits in at a circus perfectly." She shifted, a devilish smile dashing across her thin lips.

"Well come on, Anh Dao. Maybe we can catch his little show while we're in town. Poster says his "debut" is in a few days. Wonder if the guy will even remembers us? It's been how long?"

"Long enough," the Vietnamese woman turned on her heels, following behind Sadiq as he led the way down the street.

She was surprised that they had come across the American, but in a way this was a sort of blessing. The poor guy was so easy to manipulate, so maybe they'd get away with doing it again.

Either way they were catching his show, and maybe once it was over they'd pop by to say hello. Anh Dao was sure that he would remember them. After all, how could he forget the two people who assisted in shattering his life?


	6. Chapter 6

**Warning:** Circus, freak show, Snakeman [not serpent], some nonchalant smut [guy x guy], is in this chapter [I say nonchalant because I dance around the details. Full detail didn't seem right for this chapter], mention of Arthur's past [fear of cages]

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia nor any of its characters.

**Author's Notes:** Hey guys, I deeply apologize for not updating for about three months. I'm in college, and I've been caught up writing for my English 102 class. I also apologize for this being such a short chapter. It came to only seven pages, and a little over three thousand words. But, the next chapter to come is the one about Arthur and his past, so you folks should be looking forward to that. And, after _his_ past chapter, it'll be Alfred's turn to reveal his past to the readers, so much to come haha Pretty much, after those next few chapters, shit is gonna go down quickly, so stay tuned.

I don't know when I will be able to update next, but I will try to find the time to do it. I also promise that the next chapter will be longer than this one.

Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this chapter.

The artwork that's used as the image for this story belongs to me. You can find it on my DeviantART page.  
Also, visit my Ask Strongman and Snakeman USUK ask blog on Tumblr. [ ask-strongman-and-snakeman-usuk ]. I update with questions, and some story related things as well! Any fan of the story should enjoy it.

O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is an honor for me to introduce you to the newest addition of our family. I'm sure you may have spotted his face around town, posing on posters with strong arms and smiling face. He's a charmer, and quite the looker, aye, ladies?" The ringmaster sent wink toward the crowd of spectators as he laughed at his own words. "I present to you, the Strongman of the Kirkland Family Circus."

Blair Kirkland shifted from his current position in the center of the ring and allowed the newest addition the limelight.

The young man was nervous, standing in the center of the ring, and it showed clear as day on his handsome face. He feigned courage as he stood there, half-naked, with what felt like hundreds of eyes upon him. Never before had the American felt so… violated so to speak.

He couldn't help but wonder how Arthur could do this daily, but even more so he wondered how Arthur was once able to do those late night showings without batting an eye. In those cases the Briton was entirely nude, and with his personality the American would have guessed that being nude in front of strangers wouldn't have flown well with him.

Alfred stuffed his hands in the pockets of his trousers as he chewed on his lower lip in thought. He looked to the ringmaster after a long minute of silence had passed, hoping for some sort of salvation from the situation teeming with embarrassment and awaiting ridicule. If he continued to stand there like a fool, he would expect some sort of smart-ass from the crowd to speak up.

Blair took the hint to jump-start the show, seeing how Alfred was doing a poor job, and came back into the view of the people as the current attention holder. "It would seem the Strongman hasn't quite yet grown a pair for this sort of occasion, so allow my assistance if you would, kind folks." He gave a bow, but quickly straightened as he closed the gap between himself and Alfred. He ignored the appalled look on the American's face and allowed himself to continue.

"He's as strong as fifty men. There are no tricks involved, I assure you. He is genuine, and so are his looks." He sent a wink toward the American this time, walking around him as he stopped before a dumbbell. There were five total spread out side by side. Each weighed a different amount.

"This here weighs a good four hundred pounds," he offered a hand toward the weight sitting near his feet, "Of course four hundred is no match for this man, so how about something heavier?" Blair left the lightest weight alone, and proceeded down the line to the next heavier one. "One thousand perhaps…? Well, we can sure give it a try now, can't we?" He faced Alfred and motioned at him to come closer.

The American did as silently told, getting into position and kneeling before taking the bar of the dumbbell into his hands as he prepared to lift. Once he was in the appropriate position, he lifted the weight up, and then above his head. He held it for what felt like a century before Blair gave him the word to drop it.

The weight fell to the hard ground with a deep thunk that gave off a slight echo in the vast space. Alfred was thankful to have dropped it—his arms were growing tired.

"Easy, right? How heavy do you think you can lift for the good folks here today, boy?" The ringmaster was addressing Alfred directly this time instead of the crowd, but he gave no time for the Strongman to reply as he moved down to the third weight. "Two thousand pounds… why not give it a whirl?"

That was the American's cue.

Alfred left his previous place and took up his position before the third dumbbell. He bent his knees, grabbed hold of the bar, and lifted the weight above his head just like the previous.

He barely broke a sweat.

"Stupendous, yet nearly unbelievable, isn't it?" Blair cocked his head to the side as he addressed the crowd watching the stage with astonished eyes. "Why don't we step this up a notch and get right to the big guns, aye, Mr. Strongman?"

The Scotsman continued down the line, passing the fourth dumbbell, until he stood before the fifth with a tilted smile. "Four thousand two hundred pounds. How many of you think this bloke won't be able to lift that much?" He waited, silent, for a short moment, but moved on. "Go on, lift. Prove to all these good people that you truly are a spectacle to behold."

This was no challenge at all.

Alfred could lift, easily, four thousand pounds without breaking a sweat. He'd done it before, twice in fact, so a third was no issue. He wasn't the slightest bit of worried, and by then his nerves were partially gone. He just needed someone to jumpstart the show to get it rolling for him. Now he was feeling comfortable, or at least more so than when he first began.

He got himself into position much like previous times, took a deep breath to steady himself, and took the bar into his hands to get ready to pull the weight up and above his head.

Watching from the sidelines as his darling was the star of the show, making his first appearance of many in the Kirkland Family Circus, was quite a treat. Arthur could pinpoint every moment the American became nervous, spot each second that the younger man was feeling proud, and he couldn't help but smile himself whenever he saw the scowl Alfred showed toward Blair whenever the ringmaster poked fun at him.

However, Arthur wasn't the only one watching the show solely for the man currently showcased. Anh Dao kept her eyes glued to the strongman, and by her side sat her Turkish partner, Sadiq.

After catching sight of the posters plastered around the city, how could the duo _not_ stop by to see how their old friend was doing? The last time they saw Alfred he was working for the same elderly woman as they were. The three of them had even lived in the same town in the United States, but all of that took place six long years ago.

Wow, did time sure fly.

The duo remained in the audience, watching a few acts that came on after the American's, but they didn't stay for terribly long. They had places to be, after all, and another's life to set the wheels of tragedy into motion for—one that they had already found their way into screwing up before.

O~O~O

After hours, once the circus had closed its gates and shut down for the evening, the troupe of carnies flocked to the dining tent before they themselves hit the hay.

They waited for the food to cook, chatted in the meantime, then they ate, and drank, and then, after hours had passed, the rowdy bunch moseyed apart and to their respective tents.

All but two that is.

Alfred held Arthur back with an arm out as they slipped out of the dining tent and stood outside. He earned himself an odd stare from the Snakeman, but Alfred disregarded it entirely as a sheepish grin spread across his face.

"What is it that you're smiling at?" Arthur inquired, the hint of what sounded like aggravation chiming in his voice.

"Well, you of course," the American retorted as he linked his right arm with the Briton's left and led the way from the living tents. "What else would I be smiling at?" He wasn't expecting an answer. There was no need for one.

"Such flattery," Arthur rolled his eyes, but when his gaze finally noticed that the scenery around them wasn't heading in the way of their tent, he sent his partner a skeptical glare. "And where might we be going? Are you lost perchance? Our tent is the other direction."

"We're not going there just yet, Arthur. Hang on one minute and you'll see," a reassuring smile graced the strongman's lips as he continued to lead the way. Within moments they were standing before one of the main show tents of the circus—one that read, with a neat sign pinned to the canvas, "The Snakeman."

Arthur's thick eyebrows raised high with surprise as his venom green gaze examined the sign with his title on it. Why on Earth were they here of all places? "I think you've gone daffy, Alfred. Why are we here?"

"I remember what you told me a few days back, about your fear of cages, so I thought of a way to help you with that. Replace the bad memories with good ones." The smile on his face at that moment was one full of pride, and he was pleased with himself for thinking up something so brilliant on his own.

However, Arthur was having a hard time wrapping his mind around this idea. He was pessimistic of whatever it was Alfred had come up with to assist his fear.

Replace a bad memory with a good one? What was it that Alfred was thinking about doing exactly? Well, whatever it was, he was about to find out, so there was no point in voicing his concerns further.

The American pushed back the flap to the tent and held it open for Arthur to go inside first. He followed him in, allowing the canvas of the opening to slip back closed as he took the Briton's hand into his own.

Alfred led the Snakeman to the middle of the average sized space where a brass cage stood erect from floor to near ceiling top. It was large enough to fit a number of people inside, and it was familiar to the Briton—this was where he spent his time during the day when not performing. Of course, when he spent his time there within the cage, it wasn't for long amounts of time. The cage door was always unlocked, and even propped open a bit so the Briton wouldn't hyperventilate with panic.

He was okay being near the structures, and he was alright being inside of them, so long as he knew he could get out when he wanted too.

Alfred had a different plan with the cage and the door though. He wasn't going to leave it propped open, or even unlocked for that matter. He'd asked Blair previously that evening to give him the key to the cage, and he did so with no questions asked. That came as a surprise to the American. He was expecting some sort of inquiry regarding what he was planning to do with the key, but then again it was Blair. Al shouldn't have been expecting much.

He released the Snakeman's hand, reached up to the cage door, and undid the hatch to open it. Al held the barred door and made a hand gesture toward the other male for him to go inside, and that earned him yet another pessimistic glance—his third one by now.

"Trust me, Arthur, once we're both in you'll understand what I'm doing," an encouraging smile decorated the strongman's face.

He heard not a single complaint from the Snakeman, and much to Alfred's surprise he stepped over the bottom rim of the cage and entered inside. He walked to the other end of the structure and turned to face the entrance of the cage. Arthur crossed his arms over his chest and waited to hear an explanation. Part of him was worried. He did trust Alfred, but part of his brain couldn't help but be fearful of the possibility that the man he loved could close and lock that cage door and leave him trapped inside.

Just the thought was getting his heart thumping wildly in his chest, and he was fighting back deep gulps of air. He wouldn't allow himself to hyperventilate. Not in front of Alfred, and especially not when the door was obviously open.

As the Snakeman stood, the other male gave him a partial smile, probably feeling nervous from the current look he was receiving, and stepped over the rim and into the cage along with Arthur.

"Tell me you trust me, Arthur," Al placed a hand on the door and waited to hear the other's response before he closed it.

Arthur hesitated, his venom gaze lingering on the brass bars of the door, "Yes, I trust you." It wasn't a complete lie, he trusted the American as much as he loved him, but the way he was asking made him worry. Not to mention the way Alfred's hand was waiting on the bars. That made him exceptionally nervous.

Alfred nodded his head, disregarding the hesitant response he'd received, and offered another gentle smile as he slipped the cage door closed all the way. He glanced over his shoulder to see what expression the Briton wore, and what he saw on his face was pure anxiety.

He turned back away and slipped a hand into his pants pocket, removing the key that locked the cage were currently residing in.

Doing that earned more of a reaction from the Briton than when he simply closed the door.

Alarm flashed across his eyes as he lurched forward a few steps, one hand outstretched in a vain attempt to stop the American's hand holding that key. He curled his fingers into a tight fist, and allowed his hand to fall back to his side as he composed himself.

He swallowed down what fear he could, and cleared his throat before speaking, "What exactly are you doing, Alfred?" Even his voice wavered despite him trying his best to remain collected.

"Helping you fight your fear like I said I would. Now just trust me, please." Alfred slipped his hands through the bars and placed the key inside the hole, twisting it to the side and locking it with a soft click. He left the key inside as he moved his hands away and faced the other man.

Alfred took a few steps closer to eliminate the distance between them, and took Arthur's hands into his own. He smiled widely, and then pulled the man into his arms. He held him in a gentle, warming embrace, and whispered sweet reassurances into his ear.

So long as he was with the American, the Snakeman had no reason to be scared. He would be alright, and Alfred would make sure of it.

"You locked me in here."

"Technically I locked _us_ in here," Alfred corrected, "Besides, the key is still in. You can leave if you want too, but I was hoping to keep going along with my plan…" Alfred pulled back enough to look at Arthur, and with a grin on his face he leaned in close and pressed their lips together.

They kissed for a long few minutes, but when it broke a part Alfred was grinning again, "You see my idea now?"

Arthur raised a single eyebrow, "Not exactly…"

"Let me fix that," the American leaned back in for another smooch, their lips touching for longer moments than before, but it broke apart just as the previous one had. The only difference between this one and that one was the break afterward wasn't filled with much talking—it was filled with garment removal instead.

The American slipped his suspenders off over his shoulders, letting them fall past his waist and hang from where they clipped to his pants, as his cheeks warmed with color, "Get what I'm saying now?" Al brought his fingers to the buttons of his own shirt as he slipped one of them free. He followed that first one by a second, and a third, and soon his shirt hung open though it remained tucked into his trousers.

The Briton raised his eyebrows, watching the man before him start to undress before his eyes. Yes, it was beginning to click together now—piece by piece like a simple puzzle. That didn't stop him from being the slightest bit of skeptical still, but the American's plan was finally sticking itself together.

Make good memories to replace the bad ones.

A sudden smile graced Arthur's face as he met candy-apple green with modest blue, "You never cease to amaze me with how genuinely sweet you are. I'm used to the harsh people that mostly inhabit this world, but you always fill me with wonder by how honest you are." He leaned up and pressed his lips lightly to Alfred's own, but the sweetness of that kiss turned into something deeper as the seconds passed.

Lips fell against lips, teeth clashed into teeth, and tongues tangled and entwined together all while their hands set to work. It took barely any convincing on Arthur's part for him to accept this, as soon as he realized what was happening that is, which was damn good on Alfred's part. He would have been crushed if his plan to help ended up in utter failure.

By the end of that third kiss, both were shirtless and their trousers were at the preliminary stages of coming off entirely. When a fourth, followed by a fifth, kiss started and ended, both men remained in only their undergarments, having previously discarded all other articles of clothing that were in the way.

It was fast moving, even so in the beginning stages once it clicked in Arthur's head, but neither man cared. The only problem they ran into was not having the proper necessities, but they made due without by using other means.

The moment the lovebirds were sharing moved along at a normal pace, undisturbed by lack of preparedness on Alfred's part. Like stated previously, they used other means to replace what had been missing, and Alfred made note to remain cautious.

Arthur laid himself on the cage bottom once both men were ready and better prepared, while Alfred took position above him and cupped the Snakeman's face in his hands. He smiled and met lips briefly, but broke away shortly after to set to work on the task at hand.

To put it simply, after that night in the cage with Alfred, Arthur didn't have nearly as many issues with being inside the dome-like structures. The American's plan did help the Snakeman considerably, and he was forever grateful for it. Even though he was doubtful at first, about all of it, he was glad he hadn't ruined it by freaking out prematurely before he knew what was going on.

He still had his phobia of locked cages, that would be a tough fear to break altogether, but, whenever he would start to panic, he would simply think of that night and his strongman to calm himself.

Not to mention whenever he would set his eyes upon any cage, especially his own for his tent shows, he would blush and his mind would conjure up the images from that precise night. He never complained about it, of course, and he wouldn't change it for the world.


	7. Apology

Dear Reader,

This apology is long overdue, so allow me to apologize firstly for not mentioning this sooner here on FanFiction. I've already said what I needed too on my DeviantART, and Tumblr when I still ran ask blogs, but I neglected to inform you folks on here about my decision. I apologize for those of you who thought this was an actual chapter update.

I made a promise to myself. A promise to change, and to make sure that I carried it through without dropping it again. I've managed, so far, to keep my own word on that promise, and I would like that to continue.

I've fallen from the Hetalia fandom, as those of you who watch/follow me on my other websites may have noticed. I still love USUK, and I still plan on working with those two for a long while. I love them too much to just them, and I do hold them dear in my heart. All of Hetalia for that matter. That series helped me through a hard time, and gave me a way to vent through old artwork and first time fanfictions. I will always hold the series in my heart, I had good times with friends, but I've fallen from it regardless. All anime for that matter. I've grown up, so to speak. Realized I want my own name and not a mask I hide behind. As stated above, I will still produce USUK, but by the means of my artistic nude models, cute together drawings, a few cosplays, maybe one-shots here and there, and whatever else I feel up too. It won't be too much though, I guarantee.

My original work was being overshadowed by this "fandom," and this is mostly my reason for moving away from it.

As for this fan-fiction in particular, some of you may be wondering what I have to say about it. Well, I feel awful for stopping this story. I've had numerous reviews saying how they were glad to see a good circus story that was actually being continued, but now I've let each of you down. I apologize. I may one day come back to this, but I don't know how long that will be. When I write I have to be engaged in my work, else all that types itself out on my screen isn't worthy enough to be called a story. If I lack that connection with my work, it makes it stressful to write as well.

However, I will leave you with one last hope. One day I may just pick up this story and write a little more just for the hell of it. I have big plans for this, I would still love to see it finished [and I'd feel accomplished if I managed that], so despite me submitting this sort of goodbye, and more importantly my apology, I may just work on it here and there to kill time. So, consider this an over-extended hiatus that may come back to life at random intervals.

In the meantime, accept my final apology, and visit my Fiction Press account for original writings of mine. Anything more I post onto here, FanFiction, may just be one-shots from here on out.

Check out my profile to the links to my other websites. I'd love to see you there! Showing support to a writer, such as following them for more than just one fandom and enjoying their writing in general, is just as enthralling as receiving a review! Both of which mean the world to me.

I hope those of you who read this understand my reasons.

Kind regards,

Melancholy


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